


Rewritten

by UnrealRomance



Series: Connected Dimensions [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: But it's there in this one, F/M, Friendship, I'm still trying to rewrite it out, Like, Modern Girl in Thedas, New focus, New mood, Racist Stuff, Romance, Skin Hunger, Slow Burn, Still basically the same, Understanding, but god I changed so much, changing the world, nonsexual intimacy, revamped, so slooooowwww
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 188
Words: 262,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8122012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrealRomance/pseuds/UnrealRomance
Summary: Nik has no idea how she got to the world of Thedas, but there's work to be done. If she wants the people of Haven to trust her enough not to accuse her of murder after the explosion-- she has to work fast.Right now, all she knows is she can't let Thedas be destroyed. Not Thedas, not the friends who don't yet know her, and especially not the magic and wonder that permeate everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember if I've said so I'mma put this note on chapter one.
> 
> EDIT: I've since seen some troubling stuff surrounding FenxShiral and I think I'm going to go with canon sources as well as fanon sources such as Katie's Best Guess at Elvhen Dictionary from now on...

The darkness is crisp, like a winter's night.

All around me, within me, it _was_ me. It _is_ me. It _will be_ me.

I can't think in words, it's more of a...feeling. A feeling that I understand where I am and why I'm there, but not in hard and fast terms. Not with conscious understanding.

It's cool, but not cold. Dark but not like the abyss. It isn't frightening, I don't feel dead.

In fact I feel more alive than I ever have in my life. I feel life running through me and everything around me, as if I _am_ the universe- or part of it anyway.

Soon enough, I get...bored.

So bored I start looking for something within myself that will tell me what there is to do.

 _I know I used to do things, but what?_ My consciousness asks without words, scrambling for meaning and for an answer simultaneously.

Images flash across the expansive darkness, not flat and two dimensional but instead- as if I am living within them.

I am in the sea, with a young girl. She does not see me, and I wonder why she is crying. Her hair is wreathed around her, a pure crimson so bright and beautiful it makes something warm and sparking in my chest. I know her, but I do not know her.

She lifts her head and there is determination in her blue eyes, the gills on her throat flaring with something like anger. She kicks her tail and is off, somewhere.

The scene shifts.

A man in a pinstriped suit, making him seem even thinner than he actually is, as a skeleton. A bowtie that looks like...a bat? He sings, such a heartbreaking song. Walking through a forest of dead trees with a ghostly dog following him.

The dog's nose is red and glowing, and his body looks more like a sheet than anything else. I know...I know them. But the response isn't enough. It isn't what I'm looking for, I suddenly know...

Still, I'm reluctant to leave him. Until I see a woman following, with sewn-together skin.

 _He'll be fine._ I somehow know, deep in my bones.

And then it changes once more, shifting with a swirl of color and light until the images before me resolve themselves into vibrant, too-bright lights. I have to blink away spots in my vision and that's when I notice-

I have eyes again! And a body! It's translucent and I can't even touch my own arm without the limbs falling into each other, but I can see me.

And then I hear someone humming and glance up to catch sight of a young man, with pointed ears and starlight hair. He walks through the most... _curious_ palace- made of a tree? A tree's roots? And he hums. Solemn, but looking up and seeing beauty. Smiling, no matter how sadly.

 _Something happened to make him sad._ My instincts whisper to me, and I reach out. But then I see an image super-imposed over this one. He is laughing, happy, free. He has friends, a new family that cares for him. I know them all...

_He'll be fine too._

The whirl of colors and light is more disorienting this time.

And I'm...I know what this place is!

I grin a little to myself, but I can't feel it quite yet, or see it- as my body is anchoring my consciousness now. I look down, and see myself half-solid.

Glancing up, excited for the next scene, excited to recover another bit of myself-

My heart is back, and even only half-there- it throbs.

I know that man. That man with green skin, wearing a red mask. Missing one eye, wearing a leather jacket. My throat closes as much as it's able and my eyes feel hot, though I feel I can't cry. As if it isn't _possible_ yet.

My lips part to say his name, but he wouldn't be able to hear me regardless of my form. He is lying on the ground, across from his brother in blue- both of them bleeding and breathing their last as the displaced brother in purple leaves this world through a disruption in space-time.

It's the one in orange that really drags my screams out and makes me wish I could cry.

And then I'm dragged along with the purple one, and the scenes shift around as it shows me the world he goes back to. A better one, where no one is bleeding or broken or _gone_.

 _All they need is each other_. I finally decide, hollowly wishing for actual words instead of intention. Instead of instinct. Wishing for a body so I can _do_ something.

It seems the dark space wants to give me what I want, because my body forms as it returns...just in time for the last image to resolve itself around me.

It's a mountain pass, icy cold and covered in crunchy snow. Two groups trying to get warm as they walk up the mountain path, using both magic and torches to warm themselves. Magic...

I reach out for it, following the glow in a young mage's hand, but my anchoring is complete when I reach the back of the procession. I appear.

Behind a line of keepers- guards.

' _Scouts.'_ I think, and marvel that I once again have words.

The darkness is a memory, but it is hazy and confusing now that I have a brain to try and make sense of it.

It isn't long before one of them glances back and notices me. But they notice me with suspicion until I try to stand and falter. Fall.

One of them comes closer, unwary of the danger I may pose. "Miss? Are you alright? Where did you come from? Were you attacked?"

So many questions at once and all I have in me is the comprehension that he's asking what happened to me, why I'm here.

The only answer I have is a very direct look, and- "I need clothes."

And then the cold becomes too much, all at once. I realize my limbs have gone numb, and my eyes flutter shut as I lose complete control of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet is acting up, so I might not be able to update until february. It's only like four days until the 31st but I wanted to update like two days ago. We have a metered connection or whatever and used up all our data-- plus there's atmospheric crap. So I can't upload until it all evens out.
> 
> I will be back, it's just a technical issue-- I haven't abandoned you, I promise. lol


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My anxiety attack is over, so I feel a lot better.
> 
> So sorry about this, you guys! I know I can seem overdramatic when I get in certain moods, but that's what anxiety and depression does to ya. I'm better now, and I look forward to writing more for you in the future!!

They thought I was a Noblewoman.

When I came to inside the Temple- the Temple of _Sacred Ashes-_ I was dressed in soft, roomy mage's robes and attended to by a healer.

How do I _know_ they think I'm a Noblewoman? The first words the healer says to me are: "Don't fret, my lady. We're caring for you as best we can. I'll fetch you something to eat, yes?"

I have smooth, unblemished skin. No calluses on my hands. Basically no muscle on me, in fact- I'm soft and squishy in about every place I can be. Which is probably why they jumped to that conclusion. Not to mention the soft, clean state of my hair.

The healer looks so startled when I thank her for helping me. She smiles so softly and squeezes my arm. There's so much warmth and comfort in her gaze, and then she's gone- and someone I recognize now stands in her place.

"You are awake. Good." Cassandra Pentaghast stands there, looking at me with a mixture of compassion and wariness that I'm too sluggish to fully analyze. "Why were you naked in the snow?" She asks it bluntly, but gently. As much as she is capable of.

I think I may smile at her, but my lips and cheeks are still a bit numb. "All I remember is darkness." I tell her, truthfully. Then, not so truthfully "Before the darkness...I don't remember. I remember home, but I don't remember leaving...don't remember...coming here." I do remember leaving the house. But it's a foggy, blurry memory.

I feel like I was taking a walk with someone, and then everything got yanked out from under me. But that makes no sense, does it?

Cassandra nods, and her expression falls into something soft, altogether. "What is your name? Your family's name?"

I blink. "I don't have a family, they're gone." True and not true. _I'm_ the one who's technically 'gone' after all.

She nods solemnly. "The war?"

I shrug. "The Blight, The war, circumstance...does it matter how they all...?" I lead her to the question without speaking it, and she obliges me.

"No, I suppose not." She laces the fingers of her hands together and it strikes me as a nervous movement. "Praise the Maker that _you_ are still with us, then."

I snort. "I doubt the Maker'd have much to do with it. He's not supposed to be interfering, right?" Am I slurring? I'm slurring.

"I wouldn't call it interfering, to send a person strength." She smiles so beautifully with the softness. Her sharp edges still there, but contrasted against the curve of her mouth and the sparkle of her eyes. Beautiful and strong like a greek painting of Athena.

' _I want to paint you, Cassandra. Sculpt you and paint you- immortalize you in something.'_

"There's no use for faith if the God is active in his followers lives." I croak and clear my throat. "So if he did interfere in any way, it would have to be in such a way that no one ever realized he could possibly be involved."

"I suppose." She looks a little quizzical now.

"Sorry. I don't think my brain is working right." I point to my head and blink slowly- wrenching my eyes open. My eyelids are so _heavy_.

"Of course." She walks over to sit next to me on the small cot, careful and slow. "I suppose the only question left is, are you a mage?"

I frown. "I don't know. Am I? Seekers feel that kind of thing, don't they?" I think I'm slurring my words.

"I had to ask. No, I don't feel anything from you." She pats my shoulder as she stands. "The Healers will tend to you, and we will see what is to be done for you afterwards. We cannot offer much, we are...quite literally in the middle of a war." So wry. "But if we can find a job for you, we may be able to find you a place to stay with us."

"Cool." I mutter and shiver as my eyes close and I fall back asleep. One thought circulating in my mind as I fall unconscious.

' _Am I about to get blown up?'_

And then of course I'm asleep. It's fitful and uncomfortable but I am _finally_ seeing the Fade for the first time.

It comes in choppy waves and bursts of color. Every time anything is there, I claw and grab for it- but it slips by and I'm unable to get a handle on it.

I see the temple, a shore, people dancing- the images are inconsistent and it's a little disorienting. My dreams usually have a whole storyline and I'm able to walk around in them at least...

I can't even move things around with my mind like I usually can, and that's irritating me the most. I had the smallest control, in my dreams. Control over what I did, over what I interacted with- and even sometimes over where I went. Though...I usually only controlled that I went somewhere else. No specifics or anything. The scenes I walked into were up to my brain.

After a while, I swam back up to the surface of consciousness and found that I was warm, curled into a ball under the blankets they'd given me.

I blink my eyes fully open and popped my head out of the top of the little roll of cloth that I was ensconced in.

There's an entire room of women, children and a few men with gauzy fabric wrapped around their arms, legs and torsos.

I sit up and pause when I feel the cold leeching in behind me. It's more bearable now, than before.

' _Because I'm wearing clothes or because there's runes or something- heating this place up?'_ I hum a little under my breath and blink when a small child lifts her head from her knees nearby.

She has a pair of pigtails, her face is dirty and there's no one adult around her that's close enough to her to be family.

She's the first elf I've seen in person, and I marvel at her large eyes and pointed ears for a moment before smiling and gesturing at her to come over. Making small whispery noises.

She glances around and slowly creeps toward me. It kind of worries me, and then depresses me that she's just doing as I ask. After all, I could be anyone. I could be a serial killer, or I could want to kidnap her. But it occurs to me, that...

' _She's probably been taught to do what humans ask her to. No matter what they ask. Because refusing would make them angry, and the anger would mean more pain- possibly for the whole family.'_ My heart is breaking a little as I consider it. True or not for her- she may just be ignorant of the dangers- it's probably true for others.

She stops right next to my cot and I pull my feet out from under the blankets to stand up. Then I gesture to the blankets. "Still warm. Hurry."

She jumps into the cot and curls up under the blankets with a small sigh and I sit next to the cot, petting her hair under the blanket until she falls asleep.

I get up after that, knowing I need to do something. I'm not going back to sleep any time soon.

So I find some more kids.

I find some elven kids, some human kids, all separated from any parental figures- the ones with parents are all bundled up and wrapped in their parents arms. Or grandparents in some cases.

Older siblings in others.

I gather them all up at my cot, find some tattered blankets that are too holey to use for blankets and make a small pallet next to the cot. I get them all grouped together and use one of the blankets on top of the first kid to wrap around all of them and tuck it around them.

Yeah. They gave me _two_.

I stand up as they all drift away together, warm under the blankets I've given them- two on either side of the little girl on the cot, wrapped around her and looking so soft and sweet in their sleep. No more fear, no more pain...just the Fade.

I hope it's more comforting for them than my trip there was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I didn't lose my comments! I just found them in my inbox, they're just on a DELETED OBJECT or whatever. I thought you lost comments from deleted works!! lol, I'm happy I didn't lose 'em.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here you go guys!

It took some doing, but I eventually got all the kids to Haven, along with all the least-injured soldiers and mages.

After Cassandra sees me wrapping up wounds and directing kids around Haven to find scraps of cloth and bring me Elfroot they find around the village after I teach them all to dig them up- she puts me in charge of the kids and the least-injured both. Making me basically the boss of the mages and the rest of Haven- besides the Soldiers and Scouts.

It was a surprise. She just- just up and announced that I'd be in charge of those who needed tending but not healing- and the kids. I'd asked her if she was nuts, because she knows absolutely nothing about me.

' _You are in command here, already. I am simply making it official.'_ She'd said, lifting her chin in the direction of all the people I've been instructing- showing them how to clean and stitch wounds. People who've never done so in their lives. Teaching mothers and fathers, grandparents and siblings how to make a soup to soothe their children's sore throats and getting them some poultices for their chests to stop their coughs.

I sigh as I sit at the table just around the side of Adan's hut. Chopping the stem and root apart, rinsing the whole thing off, then putting the stem and leaves in one bucket- with the roots in another. The root is the important part, and I only know _that_ from watching the mages mix potions. And Adan's quick lessons on preparing the plants before the mages have at them.

Adan didn't want to hear any argument. Even when I told him how much I absolutely _do not_ know about herbalism. He just decided to stay for a couple minutes to show me first instead of tossing me into the mess head-first alone. Which wasn't much of an improvement, but at least now I know where to cut them and what to do with the damn things.

This is the least amount of work I could do in this vein, I know. Still, I feel like I'm fucking up every two seconds- checking and rechecking my cut lines to see if anything is seeping out. I'd rather be doing the digging, but the kids like it better than sitting around doing nothing so I can't take their only job from them.

They just seem so _happy_ to be useful...it reminds me of how I used to be.

' _Pfft. Used to be.'_ I scoff and toss a pair of roots into the root bucket.

They bring me my next 'shipment' before long, in their little bags and baskets and lie them at my feet, running off to find another to fill up.

After showing the mages how to treat injuries without magic and how to make water from snow- I shit you not, they had no idea- I began herding the kids down to Haven without any real permission from anyone.

I actually think Cassandra came down here to ask me what the hell I thought I was doing. But since they're orphans, she may have just been worried I was a bad guardian, or that I may have taken on too much work or something. It could be anything.

She seems to oscillate between liking me and being suspicious of my every move.

Probably because of how much I teach and help the mages.

I thought it was so weird that they didn't know certain things, at first- and then I realized they knew a lot. They knew about magic, about potion-making- the practical applications of living on your own just weren't...in their purview. So I stopped snapping at them when they asked me what I thought were just stupid questions meant to annoy me- and I just take a deep breath and _show_ them.

"My Lady?" Ren is back again. Wait.

"Crap, I forgot." I push off the table and walk over to the center of the little cul-de-sac in between the healer cabins. Feeling a bit of vertigo as I do so. Ugh, I need more sleep tonight. Fucking insomnia. "You guys got everything I told you to get?"

"We have small knives." A young woman with brown eyes and braided black hair. "And the buckets and bowls you asked for. Can we really use animal bones and blood for pigments and things?" Her thin arms are wrapped around said buckets with bowls nestled inside.

"The bones can be charred and made into charcoal for writing and painting..." I say absent-mindedly as I look back on both art and writing classes- in which I researched the shit out of a whole bunch of crap no one else thought important. "I'm pretty sure we could find some trees out there for sap, too. And animal fats can be used to make soaps as well as..."

I wander past them with the both following me, enraptured with the new lessons- the mages really love to learn.

Unless you posit something new about magic. Then they assume you must know nothing about it and pat you on the head.

Not literally, but I hate that tone of voice.

I mean sure, I'm not a mage, and all I know is theory- but that doesn't mean I can't have a discussion about it! I want to learn about magic so badly, but everyone here sees it as a curse and when I ask, assumes I must be asking about how well they control theirs and whether I'm in any danger.

Which just depresses me.

As we walk out the front gates, one of the Scouts breaks off from his colleagues and walks to join us. "So we're just teachin' 'em to kill and clean right? I dunno nothin' about tannin or preparin' the meat. Me mum always did that before joinin' up for the Blight, or me pa but he hated gettin' salt in his cracked hands."

He's very talkative, but also very helpful. So I beat down my instant reaction of wanting to ignore anything he says that isn't relevant and ask about that. "Are your parents alright?" It isn't his fault my entire body is aching and I feel like I might fall over if the wind blows too hard.

"Yeah." He shrugs. "Live in Denerim. Blight was the worst thing to happen to them in a while, now it's over so they jus' gotta worry about _me_."

"I hope you write them." I lift a brow at him and smirk at the fluster that gains me. I tsk a couple times. "That's just sad."

"I'm busy!" He insists with a squeaky voice.

"You should never be too busy to write back to your mother!" The girl teases with sparkling eyes. "We mages rarely get to know who sired us."

Ren hums in agreement, picking up on the trend. "It's so sad to see people taking it for granted..."

The Scout huffs and crosses his arms, pouting as we walk out to the Druffalo pasture. "I'll get around to it!"

We all snicker in response as we crunch through the snow and stop at the treeline- so many Druffalo, so many Nugs.

"What'd I tell ya?" The Scout grins- wasn't his name something like Scot or Skett or...something? "Nugs all over tha place. Good for gettin' a lot of bones, meat and hide- and there'll be plenty more soon enough."

"Mmhm." I nod and gesture at Ren. "You're up first."

He steps up next to me as the other two fall back. He's fidgeting. "Me? Are you sure you don't want-"

"Ren." I give him a look. "If this is a personal belief thing, I can give you a pass- but if you're just being squeamish because you don't want to get your hands dirty..." I narrow my eyes at him. "Then I'd ask why you think you're so much better than the hunters."

He flushes and his ears flick back on his head a bit, drawing my eyes for a split second. He colors worse. "I'm sorry. I just...I've never actually killed anything that wasn't a demon or...trying to kill me. It just seems..." He grimaces. "Mean."

"What happens if we stop eating meat, Ren?" I pause to ask him, shifting back on my left leg and crossing my arms. "To the animals, I mean?" Ignore the pain, you can't avoid it-- just breathe.

"They...live?" He frowns. "What else?"

I sigh, "And how fast do animals procreate, besides just Nugs? Pretty fast, right?" I lift a brow as he knits his own. "They'd strip the land, Ren. Leaves, grass, bugs- pretty soon they'd eat all the food there is, including the food _we're_ eating to keep from eating _them_ \- and they'd starve to death. Along with us."

His lips press together and he looks disgusted. "I hate learning things like this."

"Everyone does." I shrug. "Or well. People who don't revel in death. It's part of growing up and taking responsibility not only for your actions, but for the inaction too."

He looks thoughtful for a moment. Then nods and turns to look out toward the Druffalo and few Nugs running around. "What do I do, then?"

"Use a barrier. You can make them sort of solid, right?" I gesture to one of the Nugs. "Pick it up in one of the barriers, like a bubble. Then hit it with lightning. But try not to cook it from the inside- just enough to kill it painlessly." I pat his arm. "It's likely you'll have to try a couple times before you get it perfect, but that's okay. There's like, twenty running around. Just make sure none of them suffer."

He nods and steps forward, ginger-brown hair curling this way and that. A few locks brushing over the left side of his face. It's so bouncy, and cute! I smile for a moment, remembering a little cousin with bouncy red curls. Then almost giggle because her name was _Haven_.

It takes him a moment, but he finally manages to get a barrier around the Nug that can hold it up above the ground. But he can't seem to do two spells at once. So I instruct the girl- her name is Dahlia, I think- to hold up the barrier.

He shoots a beam of lightning and it rebounds off the barrier with a crack. My head throbs with it.

I sigh and resist the urge to smack myself in the forehead. That'd be more painful than I can handle right now, I think. "My fault. I forgot to tell you to open the barrier a little to allow the lightning in." It just seemed like common sense, but I've got to stop assuming that.

Their entire lives have been spent being told their magic was a burden, a curse. Of course they wouldn't have experimented that much- the ones who do are made Tranquil or killed.

And I'm sure the Templars didn't want them gaining any knowledge they could use to survive outside the Circles. Be easier to catch a cold, injured and starving mage. Being on the outside for a little while wouldn't have changed any of that. Just would've made them dependent on those who _did_ know what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno about you guys but I usually defer to someone with more experience. If they're in the mood to teach me, I learn-- otherwise I get the hell out of the way. Which can sometimes make it hard to learn other skillsets if you're not going to school for them or something.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 is too short, so you get a double update today. XP

The most irritating thing about being in this wonderful/awful place- is that I can't tell anyone anything.

Even while I'm transferring the Mages to Haven with the wounded and sending all the Templars to the Temple of Sacred Ashes- I'm wondering what to do. How to save the ones I have in Haven- how to mitigate the damage.

Cassandra asked a couple of suspicious questions about my separating them and I knew she'd remember after the explosion. So I answered with the most logical, inarguable answers I could come up with.

Namely that being in close-quarters with _anyone_ will eventually make you hate them if you don't have a place for yourself. Two fold for the Mages and Templars. And the main reason I gave was that Haven was more convenient for treating the wounded, which she agreed with.

And then Cassandra just let me transfer everyone around how I thought best and only reassigned a _couple_ Templars to come back. Because, and I quote: _'No exposure at all is as bad as too much, I believe.'_

Which I couldn't really disagree with, and they seem nice enough for now.

The Conclave explosion is not only going to open the Breach, but possibly send everyone scattering in all directions. So my purpose was to send away the Templars and get the people to see the Mages for the _people_ they are.

So not only do I have to get all the mages into Haven and show them how to see to the smaller injuries without wasting magic on them- I have to endear the mages to the villagers and vice versa. Along with all my regular duties- and seeing to the kids.

I mean, it's not like I have a personal life and it helps to keep me busy and exhausts me every night so I can sleep pretty deeply...

I do everything I can think of to unite the people. I introduce healers to family and create a personal bond between them as their injured heals. I encourage them to lean on the healer when their family members don't make it.

I've gotten a few people screaming and blaming the Mages for not saving them, but that happens with doctors too, and I tell the Mages as much when they go to walk away with red faces.

I tell them that people who are grieving just need someone to blame, and they may end up feeling ashamed of themselves for it later- but blame makes it easier to bear. So you can be angry instead of depressed.

Almost all of the Mages listened to me, and still kept trying to help the family grieve.

Not all the families accepted the sympathy and not all the Mages did it...right. I mean, they sat with them and asked about their feelings and thoughts- but I actually had to tell them about gestures of sympathy. Like bringing them tea and pestering them to eat when they notice they haven't that day.

They've done it for other mages, but non-mages- I guess they just figure they're more unified as people like the mages are. They don't know that many of the people here are left alone after their significant other dies. After one of their children dies. After a sibling dies...

I feel sad again. I hate this. I'm tired- even though I actually got some sleep last night. I'm in pain- even though I've been working for _days_ and should've gotten used to it at least a _little_ by now.

"Ah, there you are." Cassandra's voice behind me is relieved. "She is right here, Your Holiness."

"I've told you to call me Justinia, Cassandra." The older woman responds as I turn around.

I don't quite go wide-eyed, but it's a close thing.

' _Divine Justinia.'_

This is like meeting the _Pope_. Female Thedas Pope.

I mean, I'm not Catholic, but that guy's supposed to be some kind of god on earth to his people or something. An Avatar or...messenger...something. I frown at my bland memories of the Catholic faith and wonder why it never interested me for research before.

We're all standing outside the front gates of Haven, because I've just come from some of the endurance training I've decided to subject myself to. After all, who's going to protect me yet? There's no mark on my hand, no one needs me alive.

So Cassandra has brought the Divine to see me while I'm dressed in tight pants, a sweaty tunic with my hair pulled up on top of my head in a tight bun. The knot is secured with a clip since I can't figure out how to work the damn leather hair ties.

"We came to find you, because we need your opinion on something." Cassandra walks past me. "We will meet you in the Chantry."

The Divine strides behind her with dainty, sweeping steps that remind me of a bride going down the aisle, but not quite as awkward or halting. Hands clasped firmly before her. She gives me a smile and a small wink.

I wait until they've disappeared past the gate to follow. I dart down to the cabin I've been sharing with two other women- go figure it's the Herald's cabin. It almost makes me laugh sometimes.

I burst inside and throw off my tunic, even as the two Soldiers laugh at me from their place on the bed, tending to each other's cuts and scrapes. "Not a word!" I tell them.

"Not a one?" The darker haired one asks. "Be difficult to give you that message, then."

I huff. "What is it?" God, I hate Thedas clothes. Especially these itchy shirts that I have to wear a shift under just to keep from scratching my skin off.

The ginger one giggles. "Ren needs help with some Templars. They're causing trouble with the mages or something. He said he can't _wait_ to see you."

"I can imagine." I grimace and visualize two Templars standing outside the Healer's hut- which is where two guards have been stationed. "I'll go after I meet with Cassandra. I'll take her with me, even." I mutter to myself.

I find a thicker pair of pants and put my snow boots back on. Thank god. I'm so much warmer with my boots on. And the cloak is always good for keeping the heat in.

The girls pout as I leave, but whatever. I don't have time to figure out their riddles.

 

...

 

"Well. I don't think Circles are the right way to go, but Mages do need a school." I shrug at the Mages and Templars arranged on the other side of the War Table- feeling slightly queasy. "Maybe attached to the Chantry?"

"If we attach ourselves to the Chantry, it'll be no different than before." One of them speaks with conviction, her white-silver hair curling daintily around her softly aged face. "We want to make our own place, out in the world, with no one trying to cage us."

"You're too dangerous for that." One of the Templars responds, frowning and slamming a gauntlet on the table. "Who's goin' to kill all the abominations that you create?"

"Uh. The Mages can kill demons and abominations." I lift my hand a little and flutter my fingers. "Lighting comes in handy for that."

"Please, take this seriously." Cassandra begs me a little from my left.

"She _is_ , Cassandra. Be at peace, child." The Divine to my right sends her a small smile and nods to me. "Say what you feel, do not tailor it to anyone's expectations- I want your unbiased opinion."

"Unbiased. Completely?" I ask, curious.

She nods. "Completely."

I chew my bottom lip as I think and funny enough they all wait with rapt attention. The Mages looking somewhat desperate for my words and the Templars only slightly bothered with them.

And then it comes to me.

"The Templars shouldn't be associated with the Chantry at all." I announce and sit back in my seat. "No men with power like theirs should have Divine providence as their-"

"What is this!?" The Templars stand and The Divine shushes them. "But Your Holiness-"

"Sit." Cassandra commands them with a small snarl on her face, slowly rising to a standing position.

The Templars almost seem to gulp. Though the one at the front resists a bit longer before sitting like the others.

"I mean to say..." I begin again. "The Mages have been made to feel blasphemous, and the Templars believe anything they do is excusable for that reason- as well as the rhetoric that says they're above reproach."

The Mages seem almost relieved at my words, though the Templars are angrier than before.

"So I think the best course of action would be for a Chantry somewhere to be filled with the Mages. Maybe somewhere we haven't even built one yet?" I muse for a moment. "Fill it with Mages and also Clerics. Allow the Mages their religious freedom, while they learn." I gesture as I speak. "If some of them would rather worship other gods of their various cultures- they should be able to do so, same as anyone else."

"Blasphemy." One of the Templars spits.

The Mages even look vaguely uncomfortable with that.

"First of all, I said they should be able to- not that they would." I give the Templar a flat look. He doesn't scare me. Bullies always buckle when you stand up to them. Or when you break their noses, that works too.

And I'm not some Mage who can be Silenced and made defenseless. "They should be able to explore their religious freedoms, and I don't think anyone should be deciding who they can and can't be involved with, either."

"And what will happen when the Mages overrun us?" One of the others asks, with a meek voice. "They breed like Nugs."

And of course that starts a whole round of arguments and shouted insults, expletives aplenty.

Cassandra tries to shut them up, and the Divine seems to be giving up a little prematurely with a little sigh.

So I do something I haven't done since I learned to whistle. I scream. Through my teeth.

When I was younger I couldn't whistle, so I improvised. When I learned, I didn't have a reason to do it anymore except to get people's attention or call for dogs and such.

It scrapes my throat as it leaves my lips, through my teeth.

_Weeeeeew wip-wip_

Everyone pauses to look at me. It's so sudden and they all look so wide-eyed- you'd think I just opened a portal to hell or something. I clap my hands together and grin. "Sit down. We can have a calm, rational discussion like adults, can't we?"

They open their mouths and Cassandra steps in. "I will have my men tie and gag you, if you don't _shut up_. All of you!" I'm pretty sure it's the fact that the Divine is here to see all of this that makes her support me. She's pissed at these people, both sides.

They slowly sit back in their seats, looking like irritable little children. Which is what they are. Everyone is. No one ever actually matures that much. They age, they learn- some learn less than others...

Sigh.

"Now." I lift my hands and gesture as I talk. "I want to tell you something. I know how dangerous magic can be. That isn't the part anyone's arguing about. Magic itself is volatile, powerful and directionless."

They listen, but they aren't happy about it.

"But the control of magic depends entirely on the _willpower_ of the _individual_. Not on whether Mages themselves as a race or whatever is able to handle it." I gesture to the Mages on the other side of the table. "After all, if they weren't in control, I'm pretty sure you'd be piles of blackened ash right now."

I hold up a hand and smile a little when I see Cassandra glaring at the Templar that had almost said something to interrupt me.

"And Magic isn't the only dangerous force in the world." I point at the sword around the waist of one of the Templars, then to the emblem on their armor. "You have training, and sanction. These two things are more powerful than farmers. They're more powerful than your average inkeep, or noble. Not because you're untouchable per se..."

I trail off and look to the Divine, who gives me an encouraging nod.

"But because you have the power to make their lives miserable, or make them end with barely a slap on the wrist. And because you have the training to kill them with minimal effort and they can't defend themselves against you." I bite my lip. "Having magic is no different than being bigger and stronger than everyone else. You don't need a weapon to be dangerous- and yes. They always have one, regardless." I gesture at the Mages and meet the eyes of a few of the Templars as I speak. "But weapons, always have a way around them. You know that. Even without the Silencing and other abilities like Smiting- you'd be able to get around their guards and end them if you wanted."

They lift their chins in acknowledgment, some with Helms clanking.

"So I think the Templars shouldn't be held up as holy warriors, and I don't think the Mages should be called cursed." I gesture between them. "You've created an imbalance that can't go on, no matter what form it would take. They become the monsters you think they are because that's all they've ever known."

I put a hand to my chest and stare them down. "You tell them they're cursed. That they're evil, just for being born. Everything they do is wrong. Loving someone is wrong. Being too curious is wrong. Nevermind that these are perfectly normal things that everyone is free to do. Love, be curious, procreate." I gesture with my hands, flicking them upward. "The Chant of Light says magic is to serve man, does it not?"

There is a series of nods from everyone in the room and everyone seems much calmer. Well, I have always been told my voice is soothing. Someone told me they could fall asleep listening to me once. Which didn't flatter me much at the time, but...

"Did it ever occur to anyone..." I laugh a little. "That what was meant by that- is that Mages should learn absolute control of their magic, rather than let it control _them_? As they are- Men, too?" I stumble over that. No gender-neutral term for mankind other than mankind- I need to come up with something for that.

The whole room is staring at me in askance. I mean, I'm sure I've just blasphemed all over the place.

"I've never considered Mages to be...human, or elven or...whatever they happen to be. They're...different." The same Templar with that same weak voice as before.

I hold up my hand when the Mages whip around and hush them, very gently. "I know it seems malicious- but these men have been raised with this rhetoric. Some of them simply _do not_ know."

The Mages subside, but with stony looks and irritation. I don't blame them. I basically just told them to be patient with a racist, and it makes my teeth grind. But he sounds so _young_.

"That being said. It doesn't excuse it." I point at the Templar, still with the helmet on his head. "You are a person with a brain. You've been around Mages. Do they actually seem any different from other people- other than the magic?"

He turns to look around and I snap my fingers.

"Look at _me_." I say, staring deeply into the light blue eyes beneath the bucket helmet. "Tell me. Do they seem different? Do they seem different from any of the Templars? How do they seem different?"

He fidgets with his chainmail gloves, picking at them. "I...no, milady. I never. Never noticed a difference." There's such awe in his voice as he finishes.

"That's because there is none." I put my hands on my hips. "They are not another race. They are simply gifted in a different way, like everyone else. Rather than being simply artists or writers or anything else that requires natural-born inclination- they are _this_." I gesture to them. "And _this_ is no different from _that_." I gesture to Cassandra, who also seems a little floored by my words- and the fact that the Divine isn't refuting them. "People will always be flawed, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't give them a chance. And you never did. Not for any of them."

"Thank you. You may go now." The Divine gives me a smile. "I believe I can handle the rest."

I blink at being dismissed like that and bite my lip as I go. "Okay."


	5. Chapter 5

Funny enough the situation with the Templars resolved itself by the time I was able to get over to the Healer's huts.

Turns out they were hovering by the door because one of their friends had just been taken in. The Mages bristled at being watched again and the Templars refused to leave.

I did bitch them out for not just _explaining_ why they were standing in the doorway, watching. Would've saved me a lot of trouble, coming down there just to deal with the dumb assholes. When I'm still achy and sore from all the lifting and chopping and wrapping of wounds and- god, I have a lot of jobs...

I sent them back to their posts with a promise to tell Cassandra exactly how stupid they were acting. Or Cullen, if I can find the guy.

Funny enough he doesn't seem to have gotten here yet. Or he's...what, in the Crossroads maybe? Dunno. Leliana is suspiciously absent too...

I'm on one of my runs to the Temple and as I approach, I can see a gaggle of servants squealing over something. I think it might be a particularly cute Nug or child or something.

"Gray Wardens, here! And so handsome!"

I stop dead in my tracks, indulgent smile sloughing off my face to be replaced with horror.

' _What do I do?'_

I walk into the Temple and glance around. Not many people who aren't Templars, except the servants...

I walk back outside and grasp one of the servants by the arm. "You all have to go. Down to Haven!"

"What? What is it?" One of them is already panicking at the tone in my voice. I don't care- trampling each other means they still might have a chance, and they'll be less likely to stop and ask questions if they're panicking.

"Someone has...it's infectious, we have to evacuate!" I let my voice break and my voice climb a couple of octaves. "Tell everyone to go to Haven! Now!"

"Contagion! CONTAGION!" The servants run through the Temple, screaming and then leading the way out.

The whole while I'm trying to go with the flow to get to the staircase to the upper levels. And then of course I've gotta explain I'm going to warn other people before anyone will let me go, when they spot me going that way.

' _Damn. I forgot exactly_ how much _people panicked about sickness in the middle ages. It was a sure death sentence to catch_ anything _.'_ I grumble to myself about my stupid memory and history downplaying hysteria as I warn more people about the illness and keep going up until I find a floor with dead Templar guards on it.

I'm gasping and my legs ache like nobody's business when I get there- so I have to pause to catch my breath. And that's when I get a full whiff of the carnage and nearly lose the contents of my stomach all over the floor.

My stomach jumps into my chest as I force down my lunch and my heart is pushed up into my throat as I take in the scene. I swallow roughly and walk forward until I can hear the booming voice of that rock-faced bastard.

There's blood squishing under my feet, and some really disgusting smells that make my stomach churn. Reaching the door through which I can hear the exchange going on inside- I pause. _'This is so stupid. He'll probably kill me before I can get my hands on the damn Foci.'_

And then I hear the Divine calling out for help and my heart twists in my throat.

I never had any choice. This is who I am.

So I shove open the door and walk in. And I sigh when the Divine meets my eyes. "What the hell is going on?"

"Run! Quickly, you can warn them!" She shouts to me.

"They're already evacuating." I look at Corypheus with half-lidded eyes. Turning off all the emotions I really don't _need_ right now.

"Kill the servant, and close the circle. Her blood will add to the power, and we will unlock my godhood." He rumbles and points at me with a long finger.

All I can think of is 'godhood' being a euphemism and I bust out laughing as they converge on me. "Godhood? Seriously?" I'm hysterical already? Damn it, get a handle on yourself!

And then the Divine moves- the Orb is bouncing toward me, and I reach out my left hand to catch it with a grimace on my face.

' _This is going to fuck my arm up, and then it's going to be ripped out and I'll_ lose _my arm.'_ But there was never any other choice. Not for me. Not if I didn't want to make someone else take this on in my place- or just let Thedas fall.

I will _never_ let Thedas fall.


	6. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doing the translations at the bottom this time...

The woman is being held underground, to protect the masses... but they have dragged a mattress into the confined space for her. And though she is shackled with runes that block magic... there is a soft fur lining stuffed between her wrists and the metal.

I tilt my head and turn to the Seeker. "She seems well cared for. I had assumed she was a prisoner."

"Only for the sake of safety." The severe woman with steely eyes softens as she looks at the girl on the small mattress- who is sweating and thrashing and calling out in pain. "There is no chance she was involved. She had only begun her training with the troops recently. All of those who've worked with her on the training field say she was uncoordinated and untested."

"Is that the only reason?" I ask, baffled. "There are spies who do not fight."

"She saved so many of our people. Even simply by chance." She clenches her eyes shut as she speaks. "She knew so much, and she shared it all with us. Though she could not remember how she came to be at the conclave. Why would she be naked? In the _snow_?" The Seeker shakes her head. "I do not know, I can only wonder. I would..." She turns and faces me and squares her jaw and I anticipate the threats I'm sure are to come.

But they never do.

Instead she falls to her knees and drops her head, almost as if it is a trial to keep it up any longer- and I am at a loss for what to do.

"If you can do _anything_." She bows lower, with her forehead nearly touching the floor. "She woke the first day, and took charge of the orphans. She taught them to harvest herbs and salvage cloth for bandages. Taught the Mages how to hunt with magic. Taught the Scouts and the Soldiers and Healers how to speak to the bereaved to ease their pain." Her fingers clench, drawing grooves in the dirt. "And she is the only one who knows what happened to Divine Justinia!"

I do not know if this is grief or desperation, but neither fit the strong warrior I met outside.

I kneel to place my hand on her back and she shivers as if controlling a response to flinch away. Of course. My magic would be very uncomfortable for her to come into contact with. So full of solid reality as she is. "I need to examine her now. I will do what I can." I remove my hand before I am through speaking. There is no reason to make her unduly comfortable. And her immovable nature is unnerving to me as well.

She stands as I do, eyes newly filled with steel as she leaves the dungeon. "If she dies from anything but that mark-" She throws a look over her shoulder, and it chills me. "I will kill you myself."

"Understood, Seeker." It is much more along the lines I was expecting, and somehow the threat of violence soothes me. It is familiar, at the very least. She knows nothing of me. She is affording me more trust than she might usually due to her obviously familial bond with the Divine.

' _She believes she will have a better answer than "dead".'_ It could be dangerous for the woman to give that answer. Who knows how the masses might react without hope of recovering their religious leader?

I walk over to the small mattress where the girl rolls in her sleep, her eyes darting to and fro under her eyelids as though chasing after something. Hair splayed over the pillow under her head, hands moving within their confines- rolling the joints of her wrists almost endlessly.

I sit on the stool apparently brought for me and remove my pack, my staff and my vest, setting it all aside as I examine the mark on her hand without touching. Magic wrapping around the pulsating light to dampen the throbbing. Every time it pulses, she whimpers. She cries out. The pain must be unimaginable.

There is a pang somewhere within me as I pick up her hands and settle them in my lap, manacles and all. Soldiers guard her, watching me so intently I can feel their eyes like shower of pinpricks over my head and shoulders.

It surprises me when she stills after I begin working on the mark.

' _Does she feel the magic?'_ I wonder, as I whisper Elvhen under my breath and wrap my magic tight around the unstable energy. It is an old habit, I should stop...but I am the only one who speaks Elvhen with any competency anymore...I cannot simply go without hearing it spoken properly by anyone. Even if it is only myself.

She stirs after a moment and I lift both brows at the fluttering of her eyelashes, and then the reveal of her eyes. The Seeker said herself that she has not so much as _tried_ to open her eyes.

I glance between her eyes. Focused on me- direct but far away. "Do you know where you are?"

Her eyes shut, as if I'd never spoken. I sigh and pull my magic about the mark again, and whisper the first line of a long-forgotten focusing mantra.

Her eyes are open again, staring at me. More specifically at my mouth, with her head tilted toward me.

Ah. I tilt my head and stare intently back as her eyes meet mine again. _'Does she recognize Elvhen? Is it simply so unfamiliar it is jarring her out of-?'_

"... _Serranas..._ " Her lips lift in a small smile. She is slurring and it is only half the phrase she is trying to communicate.

But to be able to speak another language at all when in this state...how well does she know it? " _Sathem lasa halani_." I respond.

She smiles still as her eyes close- and then it melts away into pure blankness as her dreams settle. It is a curious thing.

Since I arrived, I have heard stories about this woman. Not a one was untoward or uncomplimentary if you don't count the grumbling of those who suspect her of being the cause of all this.

The other inhabitants of Haven are quick to shut down those who suspect her. They have become divided down an obvious line- but those on her side and those against her are still...diverse.

I hadn't believed it when I walked in the front gate. The Mages milling around with regular villagers and no animosity between them. Brotherhood in fact. Camaraderie. It was so counter to what I was expecting, that I simply froze for a moment to appreciate...and analyze it.

They all simply call the woman who did all of this 'The Lady'. She has never given her name to anyone, and no one seems to have thought to ask. When I expressed disbelief, I was surprised to hear varying opinions.

One, that they suspected she didn't remember her own name.

Another that they hadn't wanted to bother her with personal questions- she apparently had a hand in everything happening in Haven. So much so they feared she might overwork herself.

And still others who simply thought it unimportant when they could simply call her 'Lady'.

So much reverence for someone without a name will always make me wary. But the things she did for the people here, mages and non-mages both...for some reason I can't name, I don't doubt her sincerity.

She could be a con artist planning to leave them with nothing and I would still say she managed something...well. It would have been quite a feat to introduce Mages into the village population and foster a friendship among some of the villagers, let alone this familial air she has accomplished.

Perhaps it is the way they speak of her- not with worship but genuine affection. As if all of them has a personal connection to her. The way they describe her and her activities, I wouldn't doubt she had a hand in every interaction in the village at one point or another.

Whatever it is...

I reach out and brush some hair away from her face, guilt a heavy weight in my chest. _'For whatever reason, she helped these people. And now she is doomed.'_

Whether or not I can stabilize the mark, its stability likely won't last long. I've doomed her as surely as I will save her.

I cup her glowing hand in both of mine and wrap a tightly woven web of magic around it. " _Ir abelas._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhen translation:
> 
>  
> 
> Serannas - Part of 'Ma Serannas' which means - Thank You
> 
> Sathem lasa Halani - Pleased to give assistance. Pleased to help
> 
> Ir Abelas - I'm sorry. I send you my sorrows.


	7. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another double update today, but this is it for another few days...
> 
> It's just that this one is so short!!

Only two days and the entire village is in turmoil.

Those who say 'the lady' is a spy, screaming for justice. More specifically for her head.

Those who say she is innocent demanding proof.

And those in the middle who are simply trying to survive the sudden influx of demons.

"Shit! I'll never get used to a green sky." It is the dwarf. The one released from the dungeons after the explosion. He walks over to me as I stare outside the front gate with my staff in hand. Waiting for a demon to appear. "Are you sure you should be out here?"

I give him a curious glance. "Why should I not be?"

"You're kind of the only person who knows what's going on with the sleepy little lady." He quips. "If you're iced, who else do we have to fix that problem?"

True. "I cannot do anything more for her until her body absorbs the magic I have been pushing into the mark. She may not. She may die." I sigh. "And I am restless. Boredom always ends in disaster for me."

"You don't strike me as the idle disaster type." He chuckles with a warm rasp. "No...there's something tragic about you."

He does not know how accurate he is. He is an observant man, Master Tethras. But he respects boundaries, in most cases. I do not have to worry about an interrogation unless I allow myself to become intoxicated around him, I think. Which would be unwise for anyone.

"Tragedy strikes everywhere, happens to everyone." I point out. "Whether or not something tragic happened to me, does not mean I cannot also have been an extremely hot-headed, impatient youth." I huff and grip my staff tighter. "It also does not mean that I have learned any better."

"Guess so." He responds slowly. "Most people don't mix mopey and angry though. That's a _tragic_ person." His hair bobs in a ponytail as he lifts his chin. "Tragic isn't just a lot of bad things happening to you. It's making the tragic things happen in the first place." He shrugs.

Not even aware his analysis and explanation have completely floored me. My expression is even, I know. I have always been accomplished at that. "I suppose you are not wrong, then."

Let him make of that what he will.

"Solas!" Cassandra walks up to the gate with a book I recognize in her hands. "I found the book- one of the Tranquil must have-"

The burst of Fade energy just outside the walls is too close to attack before it can emerge and lash out at myself or Master Tethras.

But a barrier doesn't have to be large to protect someone- and does not have to hold up for more than a moment to be effective. Not if you know how to use them properly.

So as I pivot and step backward, a barrier springs up half covering myself and Master Tethras with a thin sheen in between- that the Shade attacks instinctively as it unfurls. The weak spot.

I spin the staff in my hand and unleash a sharp strike of Fade energy directly at it the core of the Shade's body.

It staggers backward and is hit directly with a crossbow bolt that explodes upon impact. Which gives me time to direct ambient energy from the area around us- the very energy the Shade brought with it from the Fade- and use it to lance the Shade with a bolt of lightning once my blade is buried deep in its hide.

I turn back to face the others as it shatters. "Thank you, Seeker. I believe I should return to the dungeons now." I am not ready, I need more, but I cannot leave her unattended for long.

The way the Seeker watches me as I take the book and walk back into the village is very telling.

The open-mouthed way Master Tethras regarded me as I first turned back to them, even more so. I must endeavor to appear more mundane in the future, no matter how much it _frustrates_ me.


	8. Chapter 8

I expected to wake up in the dungeon, and even to have the shackles on-but the mattress and the little tray with tea cakes and teacups on it...those things were unexpected.

I especially didn't expect all the soldiers in the room to welcome me back to consciousness with reassurances in soft, reverent tones of voice. Not like they think I'm holy already or anything. There was no religious fervor- it was more like...I think I know them. But I can't remember.

I can't remember a lot that happened before the explosion except in bits and pieces.

Cassandra walks into the room after they fetch her with a sort of hitch to her step. Like she's trying not to run, and I wonder if things are worse than they were in-game for a moment, and if maybe the world's really about to end, like right this second.

"You're awake!" She stops in front of the mattress and grasps my shoulders. Her gauntlets dig painfully into my skin as she hefts me up to my feet and stares me in the eyes with her breathing harsh and heavy.

I try not to stumble as she rights me.

"Justinia?" Her voice is so soft when she asks, I almost don't catch it.

I purse my lips and drop my head to control my reaction, but it's enough for her to get the picture. She doesn't need to see the dismay on my face as I try to wrack my brains for some kind of memory or something to tell her that won't devastate her.

"She is gone, then." Her voice becomes hoarse with the effort of holding back her emotions, tears glimmering within her eyes but never falling.

"I think so." I clear my throat and lift my head. "Cassandra-"

A shriek escapes me and I buckle as a ripping, tearing, sharp as a knife pain lances through my left hand. ' _Fuck! How'd I forget about that!?_ '

Cassandra catches me around the waist to keep me upright. "It's happening again already? We need to get moving, now!" She full-on sweeps me off my feet and up into her arms as she turns for the door, sprinting out of the dungeon and up the stairs. Her armor is hard but not pointy enough to really bother me, thank god. It's still uncomfortable, but less so than it could be.

All of the movement makes my head spin and I groan unhappily as the mark needles its painful way wider in the palm of my hand. It's like someone sticking a sharp cylinder of glass into your hand and twisting it around until the hole is as wide as it can be. And I know that the next pulse will be a bigger cylinder, so to speak.

I'm a little terrified all of a sudden. I mean, before- I was prepared to deal with the mark being ripped out and part of my arm probably having to be cut off as a result. Painful, but in the future. A future I might be able to change even if just a little bit so that the pain may be mitigated, if not the injury itself. Who knows, right?

But this? This _hurts_. This hurts like-

' _Like this isn't the fantasy/coma dream/hallucination I thought it might possibly be. Like this is real.'_ I didn't even question anything before because I thought- of _course_ it isn't real. It _can't_ be. But.

Pain. Pulsing, ripping, awful, _real_ pain.

So there's no denying it now. Even if I wanted to, I've got no arguments. And I really don't want to argue. Because if this is real?

It means I've just been made the most important person in Thedas. Which means I can actually _do_ something about those things I always wanted to change. I can _help_ people-

I can meet Cole, Dorian and Sola-

Ohhhh...fuck. I was trying not to think about that.

This entire time I was kind of hoping I wouldn't have to meet Solas at all. Stupid as that hope might've been, I was really just trying to live out my coma dream in peace and just enjoy the simplicity of Thedas.

And now that I know everything is real, everything is really fucked up, all over again.

Why put me in charge? They knew nothing about me!

Except that I apparently knew a lot about non-magical healing, how to make things people needed so they didn't have to pay for it and was willing to teach everyone how to do these things for free...

Like a dumb ass. They must pity me so _hard_. In medieval times you didn't do _shit_ for free unless you wanted to starve to death or something. It was hard enough to get by without making it harder on yourself by being altruistic. Especially when you have like, nothing of your own to offer to begin with.

I look up at Cassandra's face as she carries me out of the Chantry. But I only see determination and eyes still shining with barely suppressed tears.

"I can walk now, I think." I murmur, hoping I don't have to speak any louder. I feel so...it's so big. It's all so much at once, and if I try to do anything besides what I know I _have_ to do- I might collapse.

"Are you certain?" She stops and wrinkles her forehead.

"I'm pretty sure. You can't protect both of us from demons while carrying me anyway." I point out. "And you know how bad I am in a fight."

A soft snort escapes her at that. "The men seem to think it's miraculous you survived childhood with that clumsiness."

I sniff haughtily. "I saw one of them trip over their weapon and nearly chop their own foot off, so they've got no room to criticize _my_ grace _._ "

She laughs softly as she puts me down, but the harsh mask comes back to her before long. I think she needs it. "Most of our people believe you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time...but there are those who believe you were a spy."

I pause and blink once I'm on my feet. Testing my leg strength by clenching and releasing muscles as I take a step. "Not everyone thinks I'm a spy?"

"Is there a reason they should?" She asks, looking tired and confused.

' _How long has it been since she slept?'_

"Of course there is." I gesture with my hands toward the people. "I came in here, acted like a bossy dumbass and then got myself magically impregnated with something that feels like it's being slowly eaten by something-"

I went into this knowing what would happen and did it anyway. I mean, I could've chosen differently. I could've dragged someone else up to that room with me. Anything.

I may not be a naturally callous being, but it was still an option and I didn't take it.

Everyone always says 'there was no other option' but. There are. Lots of them. You just decide which ones you can and can't do.

And I chose this.

In hindsight, I'd still do it. _'Even if it's painful, or it might end up in my death?'_ After all, ripping the Anchor out was only supposed to save the Inquisitor _for now_.

I look up at Cassandra as I flex my left hand and wiggle my fingers. "We need to get somewhere, I'm guessing?"


	9. Nik POV, Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're getting an update today cause I'm super far ahead and I'm impatient to get your opinions on these chapters.
> 
> Never let it be said I'm not as excitable as the rest of you when it comes to posting updates.
> 
> And yes, I clearly mark whose POV it is when it changes further down the page.

I almost die a lot on the way to the rift. I mean, it's not even just on my way through demon country- but my way through _country_ period.

I keep tripping over rocks, smacking into trees and falling down slight inclines.

"You weren't this bad a few days ago." Cassandra comments once I've recovered from a particularly nasty smack into a rock wall.

I just tripped and smacked my hips into it as I grabbed for a handhold so I wouldn't fall over. I'm bruised _everywhere_. "I'm tired, everything hurts more and more as I fall over more and more...and I feel like the world is kind of heaving around under my feet."

It's like the ground isn't quite solid, but then it's _too_ solid and I have no idea why it's so hard to get my land legs when I've never known anything else. Even walking the Fade with the mark is supposed to be solid and real-like.

"I could tie you to my back." She says, with the smallest upturn at one edge of her mouth. Stoically staring forward. "Like an infant."

I pout and give her my best puppy dog glare. "Mean."

"You are the one who refused weapons training, do you recall?" She glances at me. "Why is that?"

"Because it takes years to master any kind of weapon or even any kind of martial art?" Even then you're not done training, ever. "I'll learn to use whatever I need to use to survive. But if someone's gotten all the way inside Haven- past all those guards? I figured I'd be useless anyway. A couple days or weeks or months of training does not a good warrior make."

"I suppose that is true." She strokes the pommel of her sword with a fingertip as she thinks. "Though I would recommend learning to use _something_."

"I've _been_ learning to dodge and run and duck and roll." I inform her. "If I need to live, I've got the skills to get away. Even if I don't put down my aggressor right then, at least I'll be alive."

Honestly, part of me is worried what kind of person I might become if I don't need anyone to protect me. If I'm powerful politically like the Inquisitor, religiously like the Herald and personally with my own weaponry and training...

Would I become a monster?

Cassandra and I discover something a few seconds after this question occurs to me. In the worst possible way.

When the mark lights up again and I go down on my knees, clutching my wrist and screaming at the top of my lungs- she seems to react without thinking.

She swings around, shifts her weight and throws something at me, something immaterial and...and it feels like a solid wall of air just slapped me in the face.

She looks as surprised as I do, especially when I don't start screaming again, though the mark is still sparking wildly. "Are you alright? I-"

"What was that? It doesn't hurt as bad as before..." I curl my hand close to my chest. "It's like a dull ache now."

"I silenced it." She says, unsurely. "I suppose all magic must respond to Seeker power, as well as Templar power..."

' _Magic and reality don't mix anymore, remember?'_ I sigh. _'Which means this disorientation could be permanent because my_ real _body and the_ magic _in my hand just aren't compatible.'_

Maybe we'll get used to each other. Maybe it'll just end up being a huge, excruciating pain in the ass. Either way, I need to keep moving...and I recognize the bridge ahead.

"Fuck..." I sigh.

This is gonna be a wild ride.

* * *

 

Solas POV

' _So many dead in such a short amount of time_.' I turn as a Shade lurches toward me, claws reaching for my throat. The blade of my staff rips through it and I feel as its form destabilizes and shatters. To the eye, it seems to evaporate, into mist. But I can feel the magic fracture and scatter. ' _I had intended for this world's end to be quick and painless._ '

These people may not be Elvhen, may not be the people I fought for. But they do not deserve this...disaster. This disaster that has sprung from my incompetence.

It is not the mages or the templars who have suffered most in their own war, but the common people. As always.

And it is my own oversight that has caused their suffering even further. And the Spirits...

"Chuckles, heads up!" Master Tethras shoots a bolt past the back of my neck as I freeze in place. You do not duck or jolt when an archer like Master Tethras calls out to warn you. You go still. And erect a barrier that sticks close to your skin.

"Do you mind shooting things _away_ from my person?" I ask, turning and reaching out a hand to the oncoming rage demon. I inhale the crisp air of the cold mountains and pull the heat _away_ from its molten body. Allowing the frost I cast to take a deeper root and shattering the embodiment of rage nearly instantaneously.

The crossbow bolt is all that's left once it has dissolved and a cold weight settles in my gut. _'How many demons have I slain that were not demons of their own will? How many have been driven mad by the Breach and the rifts?'_

"Where's the fun in that? I can't show off if I don't have any handicaps." He does turn his body fractionally away from me, lifting the crossbow once again as the rift settles from the last wave. "Hurry up and do your thing so we can get back. I don't want to think about what the Seeker will do if she finds us missing _again_."

"If you recall, the last time we went missing, it was not my fault." I walk up to the rift, fingertips sparking with magic as I replace my staff in its place. "You were the one who wished to go outside and 'blow off steam' far beyond the walls of the village."

"You needed it, I needed it." He shrugs as I toss him a look over my shoulder. "Don't pretend you're not an angry guy, Chuckles. Doesn't have to be loud or painful to be there."

He is correct, of course- anger does not have to burn to exist. It can be cold and hard.

"I suppose." I lift my hand and connect to the magic in the rift as best I can, but...it does not recognize me. It does not even seem to recognize that I am Elvhen.

A pang in my chest. _'What does it matter to everyone in this world that you are Elvhen? A dusty old relic of a day long past when your people were warring as badly as theirs? They have better things to think about.'_ Though the Fade's nature is far more complex than anyone in this time can comprehend- it is obvious that the Veil is a construct.

They have simply twisted the truth to suit them. And so it refuses me, because no one believes the Fade or the Veil bend to Fen'Harel's will anymore.

I have not missed worship until this moment. When the rift refuses my efforts to fix it and begins preparing to spit out more demons.

"Rrragh!" I turn as the energy solidifies outside the ring of the rifts energy. A Shade has been summarily cut down by the Seeker.

Varric takes aim and shoots a volley into a wraith behind me. I throw a barrier around him and drift backward as the other two shades and a rage demon converge on us.

The air around rage is always warped and hot. People who fight rage demons may simply find themselves going into a rage if they do not watch themselves.

I am glad Terror and Despair demons seem to be sparse so far. Perhaps Hope and Compassion have not all been twisted.

"Cassandra!" A high-pitched voice calls out as a small woman stands atop the nearby ledge separating the battlefield from the road back to Haven.

The Seeker deftly dodges a glowing green bolt fired at her from a Wraith hiding around the edges of a tree a bit further away down the path. "Focus on them!" The Seeker bellows back, turning to meet Master Tethras's eye. "The Wraith."

"Right, got it." I believe he is simply relieved not to be receiving a tongue-lashing.

In any case, he goes- rushing over the snow-covered ground with crunching footsteps. Rolling through the snow when a bolt gets particularly close.

My barrier cannot stay up if he is too far from me, and so it falls as he leaves the circle of my influence.

I spin on the balls of my feet and lash out at one of the Shades left with a downward strike. Fiery claws rake the air where I used to be and I half-turn to place my hand on the bubbling hide of the rage demon.

I channel the flame through myself and the staff in my other hand, unleashing a torrent of flame. It will seem unorthodox, but not particularly powerful if someone asks how I managed it. Ingenuity is all I can offer, too much power will make people nervous.

And then I will be dodging Templar smites and swords.

The Shade shatters and I curl my fingers into a fist against the now-cold hide of rage before it can regenerate its heat.

I create a coat of frost that digs deep into the demon- and shatters when it reaches the warm center.

It leaves the demon with too little mass to support its own power- and it collapses into itself.

The Seeker destroys the last Shade on her own as Varric fires a volley into the Wraith.

And that is when I turn back to the rift, and a woman appears. Standing just on the other side.

We stare at each other through the Fade energy for just a moment. Something familiar about her face, though I can't recall where I've seen her before...until the power shifts away and back around the edges of the rift and I realize she is 'the lady' I have been attempting to revive for days.

I gave up on her and came to attempt closing the rifts once more before leaving. I thought her lost.

' _I am wrong again.'_

Her eyes take me in with surprise at first, and then something unidentifiable. Soft and curious. "I...don't know how to do this."

I blink and tilt my head. And then I realize she is holding her marked hand up to the rift with an unsure expression on her face.

' _Of course she does not.'_

I walk around the side of the rift to stand next to her. Her smile is nervous and her eyes watch me with something akin to sorrow. "What do I do?"

It has been a very long time since the wars- since anyone looked up to me and asked what they should do. I used to hate it, but I have missed it more than I ever thought possible. To be depended upon, by anyone. "I will help you."

And then I take her hand and lift it. "You must direct your will and the power within the mark." Can she? Will it even answer to her?

The answer seems to be 'no' after a few long moments.

And then she surprises me when she narrows her eyes at the rift and _speaks_ to it when my prodding and spellwork don't seem to be enough.

"Come on. Fucking connect to the-" The magic leaps at her command and she is connected to the rift. So quickly and solidly it rattles me. "Fuck, close! Damn it." She mutters as she steps backward, yanking our joined hands back as if attempting to shut a door...

And somehow, it works.

The rift closes, I drop her hand in favor of turning to stare at her- and I realize she is gasping for air and wobbling on her feet. So I grasp her shoulder and steady her, throwing a healing spell over her as I do so. It seems she is only winded.

When I first examined her, I had to heal her muscle and flesh- they were stressed beyond their limits. And yet no one noticed a limp or even a drop in her productivity. She recovered from her incredibly ridiculous work schedule as I watched over her.

I wonder if it is odd, to experience the absence of that pain.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it for today.

I reel away from the sensation of fingertips on my skin and silk brushing between my organs- sweet jesus!

Solas drops the hand that was on my shoulder just a moment ago. His expression is unreadable. "Very good."

"Huh?" I think I'm squeaking, am I squeaking? "What...?" I look down at the mark and then up at the rift, puzzled. "Did you do that?"

" _I_ did nothing." He responds, sounding stiff and maybe even icy. "The credit, is yours."

I blink at him for a moment. "You're joking, right? I don't know shit about magic." Wow, that line was uncomfortably close to in-game dialogue. That's freaky.

He frowns and tilts his head. "I do not lie. You are the one who activated it...somehow."

"All I did was get mad and cuss at it!" I flail my hands a little and huff. "Please tell me that's not how magic works. I was hoping for more warm fuzzies and sparkly golden lights. Maybe rainbows."

He tilts his head at me now, looking confused. "What?"

"Hey."

I turn and blink, then look down- to find Varric. Looking just as roguish as always.

Varric grins. "I think Chuckles has forgotten his manners all of a sudden-"

Solas huffs in amusement.

"-so I'll start the introductions. I'm Varric Tethras. And You?" He seems so different here! Realer. More...substantial. He and Solas...both.

I glance at Solas and back to Varric, biting my lip. "I...eh...my name doesn't...um..." Shit, what name do I use? My real name wouldn't fit in this universe. My nickname would fit in even less- but Solas and Sera both only have one name and no one bats an eye at it.

"Lady?" Cassandra comes crunching over through the snow and little rocks, using a gauntlet to wipe her face- covered in goop. Yuck.

"Ugh." I say out loud and shrug off the small backpack I took off one of the fallen on the way here. It's a chore getting around all the little knives and bits of gold and whatnot to get to the torn bits of cloth I've been finding here and there...maybe near dead bodies... "Here."

I don't have many left, I used a lot to bind up injuries on the way here and...with the people in the vicinity when we got here.

She takes the rags gratefully and begins wiping the goop off of her face and neck, and trying to tackle the stuff in her hair though it only seems to smear. "Eugh." She makes a face as she does so, obviously uncomfortable. "You were able to close the rift. I wasn't sure if it would be possible."

"She seems capable of activating it if she is frustrated enough." Solas comments, leaning on his staff. "She should be able to-"

My screaming cuts him off- as a wave of intense pain rocks through me and I fall to my knees. "SON OF A BITCH!"

I think my vision goes black, cause all I can remember is going to my knees, closing my eyes- and now I'm in Cassandra's arms as she runs down the path toward our destination. "She isn't going to last much longer, we must move quickly!"

"Ugh. Cass?" I'm slurring now?

"It's alright, I have you." She grips me tighter as she picks up the pace. "Varric, move or be left behind!"

"Shit, Seeker- do we need to _sprint_?"

"She _is_ deteriorating at an alarming rate, but if we paused for just a moment, I could-"

"I do not want to take the chance that we-"

I can hear this becoming an argument even as Cassandra starts rushing up an incline.

"Cassandra." I say, as loudly and commanding-like as I can. "Stop."

She pauses on the hill and blinks, looking down at me. "What is it?"

"The mage is saying something about the magic thing in my hand." I lift it up and flick my fingers. "You think maybe you should defer to the person who knows more about it in this situation?"

Her lips part, her brows run together and she squares her jaw after failing to find words. "And if he is wrong?"

"Eh." I shrug. "At least you'd have tried everything possible. As it is now, you'll regret it if I crumble before we get there. Wondering, what if?"

She sighs heavily and sets me on my feet, holding me up as Solas approaches.

I try not to stare too much. But it's hard. Like, really hard. I mean, he's _real_ and he's _here_ and he's gonna...kill everybody...yeah...not quite so fanciful now. More horrifying and dismaying. I mean, could I kill this guy in reality? To protect Thedas?

I hold my left hand up as he approaches and he slots his staff into the space between his back and the pack he's wearing. When he takes my hand, I focus on the ground in front of me. Hoping he won't notice how much I'm not moving.

His hands are smooth with soft calluses. He probably has lotions for that, and that thought makes me want to ask a million questions already. Does he make it himself, is it actually a spell, how is it done, what ingredients does he use if it _is_ a lotion or potion or poultice or-

I only glance up once, and immediately regret it. He's staring down at the mark with half-lidded eyes, filled with glowing light blue power, like smoke or...just- something indescribable. And his hands around mine are holding a thin blue barrier as he compresses the green energy within it.

Once the blue magic fades from his eyes, they're gray again- and he glances up. "This should at least slow the progression. If it does not...it is unlikely we will be in time."

I sigh. "Okay. Jogging, then." I pull my hand away from his, and he steps back with that flat mask covering his expression again. "We can get there if we're fast."

"Come on, then." Cassandra directs me toward the path and keeps a firm grasp on me until it's obvious I can walk without falling over. "We have a lot of ground to cover."

"Yes. But I am still wondering..." Solas trots up next to us, glancing back to check on Varric as he does so. "...about your name."

I curse internally cause I thought I'd dodged that question. Sighing, I answer. "I'm Nik."

"That's a unique name." Varric comes abreast of us. "Where are you from?"

I grimace. "Do we have to talk about me?"

"No." Cassandra asserts and sends both Solas and Varric a severe look. "We do not."


	11. Chapter 11

We keep finding people on the way to Leliana's location at that last barricade before the Temple.

Even before we come upon the rift just outside their doors, we run across no less than five scouts and soldiers. All with Inquisition insignias on their armor, and some who know me personally. So, people from Haven.

I might know their names if I was given a minute to try and remember, but my brains are a little scrambled at the moment.

So many more we come upon are...gone. There's nothing to be done for them.

I'm trying to add pressure to a neck wound currently, but it won't stop bleeding. Which means an artery has probably been hit and I need to do something about that. "Damn it, I need-"

A hand presses over both of mine and a cool blue light wraps around my hands and underneath them, turning golden as it goes.

Healing magic is different from this angle. Even just having it inch around my hands feels oddly personal- but more in a outside way than an inside way. The magic doesn't caress my finger bones on the way to the wound, or curl around the tendons and muscles in my hands, thank god. Either he's just focused on the man's injuries or he's learned what it is that bothers me. Either way...

I sit for a moment and marvel at what's happening under my hands. I can feel the warmth from the magic, sealing the wound, reattaching things that were severed just a moment before.

And then he pulls away and sits on his haunches, sighing and looking pale.

"Do you need something?" I ask, as the soldier is towed away by the others. "Food or...you look really tired."

He turns his head until his neck cracks, chuckling. "I am not a healer. It takes more specialized knowledge and concentrated effort than most other schools of magic."

"I met mages a while back that said that spirits help with healing." He doesn't need to know those mages were digital at the time, and that one of them was himself.

"They do." He hedges and pushes himself back up to his feet.

"So why not ask them?" I ask, honestly a little confused. This is _Solas_.

He gives me a look, searching and long. "For many reasons."

I roll my eyes. "Reasons _being_?"

A small smile twitches at the side of his mouth. "Reason one being, I am surrounded by Chantry forces. A Seeker, her soldiers..."

"I thought spirit healing was okay in Circles if supervised?" I frown. "Maybe not unless under special circumstances, but this has to qualify."

Another twitch, this time staying up, in a half-smile. "Reason two, I do not wish to draw Compassion, Hope or other helpful spirits near this place while it is in the process of..."

"Exploding?" I ask, making a face. "I didn't even think of that. Isn't distance different in the Fade? Dreams and all?"

"Distance and time, as well as many other things." He responds, turning and taking a step.

I follow his lead and we're soon walking up the hill toward the sounds of the fighting. Cassandra told me to stay back and I asked Solas to stay too and help me with the soldiers. He agreed that triage was the way to go, though he seemed a little annoyed with me suggesting it in the first place. I have no idea what that's about.

"Okay...what about Lyrium?" I don't remember if he's ever said anything about Lyrium in-game but you can use it on him just like the other mages.

"I would rather save that for an emergency." He responds, flatly. "I am not that tired, just yet."

"Okay." I shrug.

We walk up the hill in silence until we can see the last few Wraiths being wrangled by the soldiers. Cassandra standing off to the side, looking winded.

"I wish I could help more." I just mutter it, but of course he hears me.

He turns his head and glances over my expression as I look back at him.

"What?" I ask.

"The Seeker tells me you were offered weapons training and you declined it." He says, serious and stern. "Would that not help?"

I laugh. "Do you actually think a couple days, weeks, months worth of training would have actually made me useful in this situation?" I gesture at the last wraith as it disappears. "I'd be more of a liability than anything. Especially seeing as...I don't think I'd have the time to give it my full attention." I bite my lip and start walking toward the rift. "I was busy before the explosion. Something tells me my personal time will be nonexistent _now_. If I survive."

"You could learn to use many weapons in a few months. Though I'm sure mastering them will take years, you could at least defend yourself. A bow, throwing knives, grenades..." He lists them off and his nose scrunches a little when he sees the amusement on my face. "What?"

"I never said I wouldn't learn how to use those things." I respond. "I'm training when I can, with what I have available- or, well. I was. It just isn't nearly enough to be useful yet."

We stop next to the Rift and I hold my hand up to it, focusing on the mark and the rift and the energy I can feel thrumming between them. _'Come on. Come on. Connect.'_

And then it does. So quickly and almost _easily_ that it shocks me a little. I feel the same pain as usual, but it's deadened by the magic Solas has left around the mark. Like a web of power that catches almost all the pain before it can pass through to my hand.

' _And now...close.'_ I have to yank my hand back because there's like...a suction. Like someone who's been gutted in reverse- their guts all sucking back up into their body and the wound disappearing with a quick shift of displaced air.

The air clears of the green distortion.

I turn to Solas and find him looking less tired than before. Maybe he did just need a moment. "Thank you." I smile.

His eyes flick to mine and he tilts his head, eyes narrowing. "For?"

I laugh and hold up my hand. "It hurt less this time."

His lips part and he looks at a loss. "I..." And then it's gone and he's back to his distant mask again. "You are welcome."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 12 and 13 are super short, so I'm updating both of them today. That's it though! I'm having self control, damn it!

Why are so many of the people in this world like this?

I sigh at the Chancellor and Cassandra, already at each other's throats as they argue over me.

Cassandra strongly supporting me, apparently citing Justinia's opinion of me herself- and the Chancellor insisting I'm a spy or a secret mage or something.

I'm a little surprised the Divine had a high opinion or even a neutral opinion of me, honestly. Any opinion at all. She literally only asked me to come to that talk with the mages and templars to get the opinion of an unbiased third party who'd been around both groups.

"Chancellor, do you mind if I ask you a question?" I query tiredly as I rub my eyes.

Cassandra and Roderick halt in their argument and turn their eyes to me. Good.

"If I _am_ as dangerous as you think I am, what would be the harm in using me for your own ends and taking me far away from the people you're supposed to be trying to protect?" I snort. "Unless of course this problem you have has nothing to do with me, but with the way the women around are just steamrolling over you."

"How dare you!" He stomps toward me as if he intends to loom over me.

"How dare I challenge your authority over me?" I ask as he comes within an arm's length. He stops, but the reddening of his face and the sneer are two clues that tell me he's going to get in my face real soon.

People who get in my face, learn real fast why they shouldn't.

"I am a Chancellor of the-" Oh he's really gettin' wound up.

"Did it occur to you to ask me if I even worship the Maker?" I ask, with a lifted eyebrow. "Or believe in Andraste, or if I've ever even been to a Chantry?"

He takes a small step forward, "A godless heathen, then!"

"Hm. No." I shake my head. "I don't worship any gods, but I am not godless." I smirk at him as he clenches his fists. "I believe all gods existed, maybe exist now- but that they were something else. People who inspired stories, maybe Spirits with particularly powerful reality bending abilities-"

"Do not blaspheme!" He hisses and steps closer again.

My back goes rigid and my eyes go blank. I can always feel the exact moment before my body reacts to the threat, though I don't always have the inclination to stop it when it gets that far. Hey, if someone is out to hurt or intimidate me, why should I care if I bust their lip or break their nose?

I always end up feeling guilty later, but in the moment...

I'm a little surprised when a body is suddenly interposed between me and Roderick, and even more so when I realize whose it is.

"Regardless of her personal beliefs or the volatility of the mark itself," Solas begins- calm as you please. "She is needed to seal the Breach. And we are wasting time."

"I agree." Cassandra is grim as she turns her back on Roderick. "We need to go. We will charge with the soldiers."

"That's not the safest route for her. She cannot fight." Leliana interjects and walks over to Cassandra. "We should take the mountain pass."

"We lost an entire squad of scouts on that path." Cassandra responds. "I believe-"

"I have an idea, if anyone minds me interjecting." I walk around Roderick and to my surprise, Solas moves with me. Keeping himself between the Chancellor and I even as the pompous prick throws his hands up and walks away.

"What are you thinking, then?" Cassandra asks.

"Yes, which path would you prefer?" Leliana is analyzing me, I can just feel it. Like she's searching my soul for the answers to questions she'll never ask.

"I don't think it's really a choice." I muse. "I think it's more of a matter of trying to maneuver around the demons than trying to get straight to the rift. And maneuvering isn't always just about taking the right path, but creating the right situation."

The idea of climbing those ladders up to the mountain pass is enough to strike cold terror into my heart, but there's a squad of scouts up there in need of rescue.

"We should have the soldiers here retreat back to Haven. They can take the injured with them and hole up inside Haven's walls. They can fight off the demons that come after them, but don't need to stand their ground until they get back to the village." I tick off a few points as I go. "The injured need to be transported on stretchers, I can teach them how to make those. It'll only take a minute. And the able-bodied all need shields to protect themselves and others from the Wraith's energy blasts..."

I rattle off strategies and things we need to tell the soldiers as I walk back toward the area opposite of where we need to go, and even as I begin showing everyone how to make a stretcher from battle axes and flags that've been ripped apart- shirts off the dead who probably wouldn't care- and some leather stripped off of armor as well...

Even as I do all of this, I'm checking and rechecking the mark. The pain is much less than before, it's true. But a sudden surge of energy still knocks the breath from my body and makes me shriek if I'm not ready for it.

The soldiers are building the stretchers and lifting people on them- leaving as we watch them, for a long moment.

And then I turn around and march toward the far end of the stone bridge, toward the path we'll have to take and those damn ladders that will probably be a lot higher and more rickety than they were in-game.


	13. Solas POV

She is frightened.

No.

She is _terrified_.

Even as she forced herself up the ladder ahead of me, the first of many- I realized this.

She shivers as she walks to the next, slowly hauling herself up the second set. She pauses and gasps when the wood creaks or moves under her hands or feet.

After the third, she is sitting on the wood landing between the sets of ladders as I climb up. Her legs curled up close to her body, arms wrapped around them as she presses her forehead to her knees and simply breathes.

I watch her for a long moment, surprised when she uncurls and forces herself up the fourth set of ladders.

But that is when she has had her fill of it, it seems. As I crest the fourth set of ladders, I see her curled up in the snow. Hands clenched in her hair, muttering low words to herself...that I recognize.

" _Braska, Fasta Vass, Fenhedis._ I hate heights..." She becomes more irate as she curls into a tighter ball on the ground. Apparently angry with herself for being unable to get up and go further. If her monologue is any indication. "It's just some fucking ladders. I can climb fucking ladders." Still muttering to herself in the quietest voice possible.

"Not only Elvhen, then." I say.

She opens her eyes and blinks up at me, nearly four feet away from her. "Huh?"

"I heard you speaking Elvhen before, and just now. But also Antivan and Tevene." I tilt my head. "How many languages do you know?"

Her face turns pink as she glances at the ground, brows furrowing. "I don't. Just...common. Trade, whatever. I know words in other languages- I pick them up."

"Interesting." I respond, and feel a bit vindicated when she pushes herself into a sitting position.

I catch sight of Cassandra and Varric further up, paused to look down at us. I shake my head and glance over the next ladder we're to traverse. Just as creaking and rickety as those before.

"I like other languages." She says, tapping fingertips on her knees. "I like learning things from other people. Languages, recipes, clothing designs..." She glances at me and shrugs her shoulders. "That's why they let me be in charge in Haven, I think. I knew a lot of stuff. But I was just bored a lot. I needed something to do."

Something about that seems familiar and my lips press into a thin line as I consider it. "You learned the basics of non-magic healing, cooking with limited supplies and hunting simply to pass the time?"

She sighs. "If I stop and don't have something to do, my thoughts turn against me and tell me I'm a sponge and taking advantage of people." Her hands clench around her shins with enough force to turn her knuckles white. "If I'm learning and doing things, the thoughts go away because they're not true. Or well. I'm just too busy to notice them, I guess."

A wave of something rolls up my throat and dries my mouth.

A woman who believes she is only good for something when she is serving others. A human woman who is possibly nobility. Something about this picture does not add up.

Noble Human women may be expected to have children and care for them, but they are usually expected _not_ to have a job if they do so. And even when they are alone, or childless, they are not expected to do more than _one_.

"Is this one of those moments?" I ask, gesturing to the ladders ahead of us. "Do you believe you are doing something wrong if you pause?"

"It feels like I'm quitting." She says in a very small voice. "I can't quit. Thedas will fall if I give up." Her brows have lowered and she is glaring at the ladder now. "I won't let Thedas fall." Her voice is much stronger and she shoves herself to her feet.

She is still shivering and her legs almost seem to be wobbling under her, but she grasps the ladder and moves up. Climbing with sure, precise movements until she reaches the top.

And this time she does not stop to curl up on the ground- but instead keeps walking forward out of sight. I begin my climb after watching her climb halfway up the next ladder- and I believe the only reason I paused so long is that I am...

Mostly confused...and somewhat impressed.


	14. Chapter 14

"I dunno what we'd'ave done if you hadn't come, Lady Cassandra." The Scout leader says, holding her side tightly where it bleeds.

"Nik is the one who pushed us to come this way." Cassandra throws me a glance and frowns.

"I'm fine." I croak and clear my throat, rubbing my left wrist with the fingers of my right hand. "I think I pulled something, it was...really fighting me."

"I could take a look at it." Solas is hovering near me, probably worried more about the Mark suddenly going off and killing me than my wrist pain. But, well- either way.

"Yes, please." I say and glance up at him. His expression is hidden behind that mask again. "If you can't, I'm fine. I'm sure you've gotta be a little tired by now." Ancient elf or not, he's gotta have _some_ limits.

He shakes his head. "I am fine." And then settles on the ledge next to me.

I think this little square of stones and a half-wall used to be a house that got...blown away.

I hiss when he takes my hand in his and he frowns kind of severely at me for a moment after the magic slips between my bones. "This is sprained. You should have waited for the next wave, it wasn't sufficiently worn down."

"Waited for more Spirits to be pulled through and destroyed? For more of the scouts to die defending me?" I ask, weary and more than a little irritated. "I don't like waiting at all. A sprain is nothing compared to their injuries. Which..." I pull my hand out of his grip once it's gone numb. I don't know how he anesthetizes like that, but it's probably something to do with ice, or...lightning? Maybe used on the nerves- focus! "I should be seeing to."

"The Breach is pulsing more quickly now." He says, hand settling on my shoulder to keep me sitting. Expression intense, voice soft. "We can't afford to waste time everywhere we go. They are not injured badly enough that they will die before reaching Haven."

I sigh. "I was hoping-"

The shielding around my wrist breaks with a solid crack as the mark erupts with energy and pain.

I think I've blacked out again, because I come to with Solas on his knees next to my insensate body- my hand in his again as he weaves a new protection around the mark. "It was too powerful to be contained. We need to reach the Breach within the next few minutes. Any further pulses may be too much for her body to handle."

"We can clear the way forward, Seeker. Those of us who can still stand." The Scout leader volunteers her men without a second thought- she stands up straight and salutes. "The rest can wait here or head for Haven."

"Take the back ways..." I cough and swipe a hand across my mouth. Blood smears across the back of my hand and I sigh. "There are demons at the...front."

Am I going to die today? Before I even seal the Breach? Or maybe sealing the first rift _will_ seal the Breach and my part in this world will have played out...

"We are going _now_." Cassandra stomps over to pick me up once the magic glow in Solas's hands fades away. "Do not argue, I am carrying you."

"I don't think I could walk anyway..." I concede with a whisper.

Cassandra's expression tightens as she picks me up and then starts down the path with a determined stride. The Scouts forge ahead of us, much faster and more agile than our group that has to stay together. Not really out of necessity I guess. It's nice that Cassandra just takes quick strides instead of running so Varric can keep up.

I keep feeling Solas throwing magic over me, though I can't tell what he's doing. Probably just trying to keep me from imploding.

"She alright?" I can hear Varric ask quietly from the side I can feel the magic coming from.

Solas responds with a tired sigh. "I don't know."

That scares me more than anything. I mean- Solas is supposed to know things, that's his whole... _thing_.

"I'm good." I find myself rasping and glancing over Cassandra's shoulder at them. "Just keep me alive long enough to shut the damn thing and whether I die or not afterwards probably doesn't matter." I smile, trying not to show my teeth, because they're probably bloody.

"You don't even think you'll survive?" Varric asks, sighing and shaking his head. "Why aren't you more pissed off or, I don't know - _depressed-_ about that?"

I laugh and cough up some more blood, ignoring the pain in my chest to twist and spit it out on the snowy ground. "I know my place in the universe. Fate is created with your own two hands, but there are some things you just can't change or fight. You can try, and sometimes succeed." I cough and wipe my mouth with shaking hands.

Cassandra is listening, I can tell by the way she picks up the pace and how her muscles holding me are tightening up.

Varric looks really grim and Solas almost seems angry. Guess he would be. This sounds an awful lot like quitter talk.

"So if I survive, I'll be happy about it. But if I don't- I'll know I did everything I could. There's no use in getting upset about something that might not even happen yet." I shrug and shift in Cassandra's arms, looking away from them, to the path ahead. "And if I'm dead, I won't be able to feel anything."

This terrifies me. It terrifies me so completely I've gone numb. Or maybe that's the magic trying to kill me, who knows. All I know is that I feel cold inside and halfway to dead already. And if I can do this, if I can survive- an adventure will be ahead of me. If not- at least Dorian and Cole and the others _will_ survive at least a little bit longer.


	15. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, there's a LOT more Solas povs than last time and I don't even know...I mean, it just seems right that you see it from his perspective sometimes...and I think I'm gonna go for Varric and some other POV's that we didn't get last time too.
> 
> This is the last update for today.

Her heart has stopped multiple times.

Her breathing was intermittent at first, and only got stronger once the mages added their power to mine in Haven. Seeking to revive her, heal the ruptured muscles and organs and flesh...

The magic ripped her apart from the inside out. Harsh, powerful and pure. And I am pulling her back to the world only to be ripped apart again and again.

I can only hope that now the first rift has been sealed, the Breach will be easier as it has stopped expanding.

She is more...

I would have hoped a cruel person would be bestowed with this painful power. That it would hurt them in ways they deserved- if I had known this would happen. She does not deserve this.

The children come every day to lay flowers and colored rocks outside her cabin, all around the outside. They even began planting them after the third day. There is ivy climbing up the side of her own, personal cabin now.

Two soldiers were living here with her before, and left. Took all of their things with them and insisted they were fine in a tent. All they asked for were extra furs and a spot close to a fire. Small things to ask, considering.

The healers make certain to come in when their work with the other patients is over, to lay another layer of healing magic over her. It takes hours for her body to absorb the magic as if it wishes to reject it. I have never encountered this much resistance to magic outside Templars and the Seeker.

Her reaction to the possibility of death was to keep marching forward. To keep going down the path that may kill her because it may _not_. Any other non combatant without training of any kind- they would have crumbled. Or at the very least, they would have complained very loudly. Fought against the desires of those who would have her sacrifice herself for everyone else.

I do not understand it. Or rather, I do-- but I have not seen such a thing in a very...long time.

I am waiting for the latest layer of magic to seep into her flesh before adding another and it is taking most of the night for this one. My magic seems particularly repellent to her body. Possibly because it is attempting to reject the mark, and my magic is similar enough to recognize.

If only I could _remove_ it.

I could help her to heal without tiring myself, and disappear with the mark itself to seal the breach and the rifts created in its wake. The Veil must be intact before I bring it down or it will cause further damage than I originally planned.

I am unsure if I could remove it all in one stroke if the rifts remain. It would be like trying to snatch a cloth from a tree branch, ripping it to pieces as you do so. There would be bits left behind and those small pieces of the veil would disrupt nature before settling, in ways that could be disastrous.

A small noise from the bed and I am standing before I realize I have moved. The book I was reading is on the floor.

She is stirring. Minutely.

Eyelashes fluttering, but not opening. Lips pressing together, then moving as she mutters under her breath. There is a newly sealed section of skin across the left side of her lips, scarring the upper with a slight curl.

It turns the line of her mouth into something almost devious. It doesn't fit her. Not from what I have seen.

Her entire body has slim lines of scarring on it now, from where the magic attempted to disembowel her. She held together remarkably well, but she has no natural resistance to combat it. I wonder if she will be upset about the new blemishes and then doubt that she will at all. She doesn't strike me as particularly vain.

She settles after a moment, nonsensical words disappearing as she settles back into her dreams.

I sigh heavily and walk over to check the magic once again. It has been absorbed more quickly than usual. I lift a brow and lay another weave down over the worst of her injuries. I am attempting to keep the scarring to a minimum.

Scar tissue can be quite uncomfortable and dangerously vulnerable, I've found. She is already horribly vulnerable.

Her body takes the magic more easily than before and I wonder if she is adapting to it. She must never have needed healing before in her life if it is only now that she is becoming accustomed to it.

I lay another layer over the first and purse my lips when I find that is the limit her body will grasp. Any more would simply be a waste, like water off a duck's back.

So I pick up my book, put it on the desk and leave the cabin. I throw a glance at the cluster of healers at the cabin next door and sigh, signaling at them to watch her.

A young man with curling auburn hair rushes into the cabin with a worried expression on his face. He has been the most frequent visitor and I wonder if he knows her or if she is simply 'the lady' to him as she is to everyone else.

I shake off the speculation, it is too easy to become distracted when I am this exhausted. My mind is likely to spiral into nonsensical territory and stay there for a long period of time if I do not do something about this.

I suppose if I cannot stay awake I will either need to sleep for the few hours before her body absorbs the magic I have used to heal her...or I will have to drink tea.

The thought of the bitter brew is enough to make me irritable. Though I suppose that may be partly the exhaustion.

I walk down the path toward the center of the village and then through the milling throngs of people up the incline to Master Tethras's usual spot...though he is not there at present, it seems.

The tavern, then.

It is difficult to avoid a place when everyone else goes there, especially if you particularly enjoy their company. But the tavern will never be my favorite place to wander.

Still I go, so near to my own cabin so newly gifted to me with promises of supplies and research material if I need it. It is more than I expected. In fact I expected to be watched and perhaps even detained in between my sessions healing Nik.

After all, I have shown myself to be no normal mage. But it seems the Seeker is at ease with me, and everyone else is afraid to question her.

"Chuckles!" He calls out to me as soon as I enter, hefting a tankard with a quill in his other hand. "How's our little lady doing?"

"Better than she was." I answer as I cross the floor to his table, settling across from him. "I do not think she will die again."

"Shit." He huffs and shakes his head, taking a swig of his ale. "That girl is going to wake up with _issues_. Lots of 'em."

"I agree." I blink and almost find it impossible to open my eyes again. "I need to sleep, but I cannot leave her unattended."

"You said yourself she probably won't die again." He shrugs. "If she does, there are other mages in there, and you taught 'em that thing you do, right? If anything happens, they'll probably panic and wake you up anyway. Go to bed, get some sleep."

"I am reluctant to leave her to them." I admit with a slight curl to my upper lip. "They believe they know everything about magic but actually know nothing." I rub the bridge of my nose with my fingertips and push back the encroaching headache. "They may do more harm than good if they suddenly decide to do something other than what I've shown them."

"I don't think any of 'em wanna take that chance. I dunno if you've noticed but the people here are kinda enamored of that one." The dwarf chuckles. "She ran around here, working her fingers almost literally to the bone just to make these people comfortable, healthy and...well, I hear she had a hand in how well everyone's getting along, too."

"I am aware." I say. "But how far can that take them? Desiring to help is not enough."

"They've got what you showed 'em and it obviously works or she wouldn't be alive right now." He sighs and scrawls a line in his journal. "Go to bed. She'll still be here when you wake up. If she's not, you've got full rights to sock me in the mouth."


	16. Chapter 16

It was hard to get up and dressed when I woke up in my cabin.

The other two girls are gone, along with their extra beds and personal effects. So they were either kicked out or left. Either way they'd probably refuse to come back even if I asked personally.

There's a pain, more of an ache- deep down inside my skin. Inside my body, inside...everywhere. Like I've stretched all the muscles in my body at once.

Every movement's difficult to finish without cringing and hissing, and cloth feels abrasive to certain parts of my skin.

I discovered the scar tissue after examining why that could be. And wondered...what the hell...?

I breathe heavily into the space between my knees as I lean over the side of my bed, feet planted solidly on the floor. I don't know how I got the scars, I don't know how long I've been out and I don't know what's been happening while I was unconscious, but-

' _It doesn't mean anything. They don't really believe it. It's just post-cataclysmic hysteria and relief.'_

The people just outside my door had bowed and called out to me as the Lady Herald of Andraste when I'd tried to leave. And it wasn't just reverence or relief or gratefulness- there was definite worship there and it...

It scares me.

I don't want to be worshiped, I don't want people to think I'm some kind of deity or demigod or whatever the hell a 'Herald' actually is in this world...

That's why I kept where I'm from and what I know from them. I mean, I knew what they'd probably call me, what they'd inevitably believe...but it seemed the same as the Divine's position in-game. Some people believe you may be holy in some way and behave accordingly in case you _are_. But there was never any kneeling and singing praises to your character.

There was never a bunch of offerings outside your front door, food and weapons and soaps all finely made and beautiful and...god, and I slammed the door and retreated inside. They must think I hate it, or that I'm disapproving of them or something, which will inevitably mean more vigorous bowing and scraping and-

Cassandra, Leliana, Cullen and Josephine open my door and find me gasping for air and clenching my knees in my hands.

"Should I get Solas?" Cassandra backs up as if about to turn and run but Josephine stops her with a hand on her arm. "She is gasping for air!"

"Yes, and I recognize this. Magic cannot heal this ailment, I am sorry to say." Josephine sweeps grandly over to me in a dainty golden gown that's...new. Not her canon outfit, but something more...spun gold brocade embroidered with darker and lighter gold threads. I can't even tell what the designs are, but they're...beautiful. "Would you like some tea? Or simply to talk?"

I clench my fingers tighter around my knees and gaze up into her beautiful face with wide eyes. "They're worshiping me." I strangle a little on the words, but I get them out.

She nods, her eyes warm with sympathy and patience. "Yes, I suppose for now they are. I am sure in a few days they will feel less inclined to do so. Until then, you must breathe, and bear with it. Can you do that?"

I take a deep, shuddering breath and let it out in one long exhalation. "I dunno." I answer with a croak. "I want- where's-fuck." I drop my head back into the space between my knees. "I just need a minute."

So the advisors wait while I have a mini-breakdown.

Leliana watches from the shadows, silent. She wears dark purple robes that appear soft, but are tight across her body and obviously made of some kind of leather or...something. Scales? Dragon or something?

...her shoes are soft little satin slippers though. With little embroidered designs and a silk ribbon.

Focusing on Cullen next, I realize my breath is coming easier. I didn't even realize I'd begun compartmentalizing, how funny is that?

He's taller in real life, I guess. I mean, he was tall in-game too, but it's more imposing in person. And his armor isn't quite so...ostentatious. Still a fur around his neck but it's more golden and perfectly smoothed. Almost matches his hair, actually.

I give a high-pitched little giggle as I turn my eyes to the floor and wave off Josephine when she shows concern. "His fur matches his hair, I'm sorry."

There is a small laugh from beside me and Josephine clears her throat. "I-apologies, Commander."

"I've heard it a few times." Cullen deadpans. "Are you able to speak now?"

"I think so..." I sigh and push myself onto my feet. My breathing is still a little ragged, but it's under control for now. "Um...so, what's...uh. What's happening?"

"First of all, the Breach has stopped expanding, so you've bought us time to deal with it." Cullen answers, a bit curtly. "But it hasn't been sealed, so we will still need to address the problem."

"The people believe you were sent by the Maker to help us in our hour of need." Cassandra says, standing proud and regal beside Cullen. "That is what I also believe."

I lift a brow at her and speak up before anyone else can. "You realize I was just like, hyperventilating over that belief, right?" I chuckle when she seems at a loss. "It's fine, Cassie."

She flushes a deep pink, but doesn't say anything about the nickname.

Leliana steps forward next, lifting her chin and staring deep into my eyes. "I do not know what to believe, but you have a power that no one else does. Necessity dictates we become allies." She tilts her head and studies me for a moment. "The Chantry disapproves of our protecting you. They have disavowed us. Declared us Heretics."

I feel a small frisson of guilt up my spine. I knew that would happen, but I didn't really think about it. Or what it would mean to people like Leliana and Cassandra. "I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault." Josephine grasps my shoulder. "We are the ones who allowed the people to think what they like. We assumed it would be easier to gather help, gather followers- if there were grand rumors about you. When they began speaking of you as if you were holy, we did not stop them. This is the result and we bear the weight of it gladly."

"You're a hell of a talker, miss." I realized a second ago that I'm not supposed to know who she is. This is as good a way as any to ask for her name.

"Thank you. Oh! How rude of me." She smiles brightly and proceeds to give me a courtly bow. "I am Josephine Montilyet. I am ambassador for the Inquisition."

"Inquisition?" I'm not supposed to even know what that is. Cassandra hasn't said anything about what it means to me, so I should play dumb.

"We are tasked with finding the Divine's killer, ending the Mage/Templar war and sealing the Breach." Cassandra says, perfectly level.

Leliana shifts in place, drawing my eye even before she speaks. "The Chantry does not approve, but we do not care. I meant only to inform you of our difficulty."

"Will you join us?" Josephine asks, and I'm a little startled at the fact that I kinda thought...

"Was there a doubt I was going to?" Comes blurting out of my mouth. "I mean. Besides just the whole- the Breach needs to be closed for my own personal self-preservation and everything..." I scratch the side of my jaw and flinch when I meet the line of a faint scar. So thin, so sensitive. "This thing in my hand isn't going away anytime soon, I figured. Staying here, I might find a way to remove it without killing me or something, right?" Probably not.

"True." Cassandra nods slowly. "And...we cannot protect you, if you are not with us."

I flick my wrist. "I'm here, so there's no point dwelling on what might be." Grinning nervously, I gesture at myself. "Now. Somebody wanna fill me in on what's going on with all these scars?"

I'm a little afraid of the answer when I see the expressions on their faces. Even Cullen looks a little queasy.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure those of you who read Transcendence will recognize what's going on...but it resolves itself a bit differently this time...

I can't look at him.

I can't do it. It's impossible not to get lost in his eyes or avoid staring at his ears or his jawline or...you know what- just everything. I can't help but stare or absentmindedly gaze dreamily in his direction- so I'm just gonna try like hell not to look at him at all unless I have to. Especially not in the eyes.

It's not like he's objectively absolutely beautiful, I mean- a lot of people could probably look at him and just see an average-looking elf without getting caught up and all...google-eyed.

But it's never really been just his appearance that I liked, anyway. I mean, when I first saw a picture of him, I didn't really get it. He looked...I dunno. I just wasn't interested. Until I played the game.

My elven rogue Inquisitor was often frustrated with his attitude, but I really liked hearing his opinions on things, because...they were different. Different than Varric's, though the dwarf is a lot more live and let live than most. Different from Cassandra's, from Sera's, from all the companions in all the games I'd played up to that point.

After a while, I was like- okay. This is a guy who has a lot of backwards ideas, but he'll eventually admit he's wrong and racist. I had full faith in that. He just came off as being that thoughtful and _good_ inside. And then Trespasser and all the revelations and suddenly everything was in a different perspective and everything made so much _sense_.

But to be honest, I didn't think _Trespasser_ made any sense. Why would Solas, not Fen'Harel, but _Solas-_ The Fade Expert, friend to spirits, compassionate-all-around-good-person...kill everyone? The freedom fighter Fen'Harel would just make that choice for everyone else? (I dunno if he asked anyone before putting up the Veil, but he probably at least warned someone...) Just to bring back Elvhenan? Which he kinda tried to destroy in the first place?

I mean, I believe he thought the Veil was only supposed to lock away the Evanuris and that the results like the Quickening were completely unexpected...

But I just can't believe he'd make that same mistake twice. To systematically commit genocide of entire races after doing it to his own race- something that kinda made him go crazy with grief...

If he was friends with the Inquisitor, romanced her even...

It just makes no sense to me.

And that's what always drew me in after the game ended. Trespasser is when I realized I was kinda in love with the guy- you know, as much as you can be with a character in a game. I even went back to the first save after Skyhold to romance him- my elf was originally in a romance with Cullen but he...eh...yeah, that was a mistake.

So it was never his looks or even the most often-used reasons like 'he's intelligent' or 'he's very soft-spoken and sweet' like most girls would probably say.

It was how his eyes looked when he was smirking, smiling, angry, snide- the way his nose would curl up just a bit when he was disgusted with something. The way his expression would change so rapidly between emotions and how he could hide behind a mask so easily.

How loose and relaxed he was at the damn Winter Palace and how he gave the impression that he could wrap every person in that room around his finger if he wanted- and he knew it.

The sway in his walk came from confidence, the straight-backed posture from pride. And still he made self-deprecating comments about mistakes he'd made and bad decisions that had seemed so perfectly reasonable at the time...and yes, how dangerous he can be _is_ kind of a thing with me.

He set his coattails on fire, and then hoped no one would notice. Had to think about it when Sera asked if he'd ever pissed magic by accident. That made me howl so loud with laughter- I can't even tell if he was trolling her, he was so damn natural with it.

And sometimes it was just...his voice. The way he'd say things. Not the rhythm, or the sound itself, but the emphasis he'd put on some words and the tone he'd take when he really cared about a subject but didn't want anyone to know.

So it isn't his face precisely that fascinates me, but the fact that his face expresses his thoughts and emotions to some extent. And those thoughts and emotions fascinate me. _He_ fascinates me.

"You alright?" Varric startles me.

I actually jolt in the horse's saddle and nearly fall over."Shit!" Solas has to reach over and catch me before I fall. He rights me in the saddle as Varric gives me a look and I huff. "What?"

"You've been kind of out of it, all day. Something going on?" He tilts his head and squints at me.

I laugh. "You mean besides the fact that I'm now god to a bunch of people- or demigod, or what-the-fuck-ever and I'm not sure if this thing in my hand will kill me before I seal the Breach?"

He hums. "Is that just hitting you _now_?"

"I don't know, is that not normal?" I snort and shake my head. "Like I care about normal, listen to me." Sighing and rubbing my eyes, I blink and glance around. "Damn, how long was I trapped in my own head?"

"An hour at least." Solas responds, blithe and nonchalant as can be.

In-game, I thought the smile when you first met him was fake. He was happy you were alive and therefore could still be useful for his plans, but didn't know you- therefore he presented a pleasant front. His manner and the cheerfulness in his voice both sounded very...plastic.

But I didn't have confirmation till now. He is definitely trying to seem unaffected. Which means he definitely noticed all my one-syllable responses and how I'm trying to avoid looking directly at him.

Or he's just in a mood and trying not to let on. Either way, could end up badly.

"Sorry." I feel the heat creeping up the back of my neck and spreading over my face and I really really hate it. "I have...well, I like to call it absolute focus. Everyone else calls me a space case or a dreamer-" Fuuuuck. "-which have more negative connotations and involve varying levels of irritation with me." The end of that is accompanied by a nervous laugh.

"Thinking about anything in particular or did you just get lost in the negativity spiral?" Varric asks.

I laugh. "Well...the spiral _does_ always try to take me for a ride." I admit, a little sheepishly. "But I guess I was just lost in thought. No particular thought, just...thoughts." My eyes flick to the side and then back to Varric- trying not to notice how Solas is looking at me in my periphery. I probably sound ridiculous.

"If you were more angst-ridden, I'd call it brooding." Varric muses as we ride along the path down to the Crossroads. We're so close now, and it's almost sundown. "Is there another word for that?"

"Ruminating." Solas mutters from my other side.

Varric laughs and nods. "Yeah, I've heard that one."

"Varric?" Something occurred to me when he said 'brooding'. "I forgot to ask about your book. Tale of the Champion?"

"Oh? What about it?" He's always happy to receive feedback, I know- authors are addicts for positive reviews. Still, he always seems guarded about it.

"I think I read it right before coming to the conclave." I speak slowly and stare straight ahead. "But I can only remember certain things. Like...the expedition, the Qunari invasion and the...the chantry blowing up? And the fight between the Mages and Templars. I wanted to ask about the smaller things."

"You'll have to be more specific, there are a lot of 'smaller things' in there." He remarks, jovial as ever.

"I can't remember who Hawke's love interest was." I glance at him sideways and grin. "Please tell me it was the man with the white hair?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "You know how many times I've been asked to change my story so Hawke would end up with Fenris? I told that broody elf, women fall all over themselves for that type."

"So who was it?" I think I just bounced a little. "The dalish blood mage? The pirate queen?" No names. Hazy, indistinct- gotta pretend I don't know people who might've been my best friends if I'd woken up in Kirkwall instead...

"The Ex-warden Apostate, actually." Varric sighs. "Blondie and Hawke went off into the sunset together after the fiasco in Kirkwall ended and it became apparent the Chantry probably wasn't going to leave us all be."

"Did everyone else make it out alright?" I ask, sincere worry a heavy weight in my chest.

"Daisy's taken charge of the elves in Kirkwall and what was left of her clan after the demon in the mirror fiasco." Varric replies. "She's a really good...eh...Keeper! That's what they call her. The Keeper."

"I loved her." I say, smiling. "I can remember that. She was sweet and naive and always open to things..."

"It is too bad, how her bargain ended with the demon." Solas surprisingly comments.

When I glance over, he looks pensive.

I decide to take a shot. "She wanted to discover what really happened to the elves, right? Their past?"

His expression doesn't change much, but there is a slight twitch that tells me he might've just grit his teeth. "And in looking for her answers she was nearly possessed and was forced to kill her Keeper. A woman who was like a mother to her."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Varric says. "Most of the time, in this world, we're punished for looking for answers beyond what we've got."

"That's the rule of law anywhere though, isn't it?" I smile when they both glance at me. I'm staring straight ahead so I can see them both in my periphery. "It makes it so you look to the future instead. Dwelling on the past, especially romanticizing it...can lead to disastrous things."

"Such as?" Solas asks.

"Such as seeking to destabilize society to return it to a simpler time." I say. "Where I come from, a lot of people wanted to do that. Wanted everything to be simpler and easier like they were back before we were...organized. The way we were." Shrugging, I bite my lip and go on. "But that would've meant abandoning everything we knew about medicine, food preparation and socialization. Which basically means we'd have been murdering each other over food, dying at the ripe old age of fifteen after giving birth to our first child and probably dying at thirty otherwise because of all the disease..." I trail off and sigh. "It was just a really really bad idea."

"Why would anyone actually want that to happen?" Varric asks, looking a little confused. "What did they actually think it would be like?"

"They figured that without money, there'd be more purity. Less fighting over money and money objects- which is just stupid. I mean a barter system would be great and all, but it wouldn't _eliminate_ greed. It'd just take a different form." I gesture with my hands as I talk. "And also, they thought that making food all-natural instead of, you know, cooking it up with special spices and preserving it with salt and such- it'd be healthier for us. No matter that it'd start to grow mold and other disgusting stuff and just be wasted or make you sick."

I can hear Varric laughing, but I'm on a roll.

"And they didn't want any formal...guard force." I trip over 'police'. "So they could just go out and...kill people who irritate them by committing crime." Also stumbling over 'shoot'. "But personally I think people should only die if they've killed someone else, maliciously and knowingly."

"You'd throw everyone else in prison, I'm guessing?" Varric asks.

"No." I shake my head. "Prison isn't effective, it does nothing to punish or otherwise rehabilitate. I mean, even if you apprentice them to someone and teach them something new, a lot of people are hesitant to hire someone with a violent history- so they'd just end up right back in jail for thievery or murder again because they have no place in society."

"What would you do with them, then?" Solas is eyeing me from his horse. Expression unreadable.

"Thieves I'd probably end up teaching them job skills and giving them jobs directly within the government with people to watch them. After a certain period of time we could transfer them somewhere else and have infrequent check-ins to make sure they aren't doing anything unlawful- and they could do whatever they want after that." Can't mention Therapy. "I'm not really sure about the rest, it'd depend on the situation. I mean, with thieves- even if they stole bread because they were starving, they can only benefit from a job." I huff. "And people waste so much food, they should just give the leftovers to the homeless and _they_ wouldn't have a reason to steal anything. Same for clothes and stuff."

"That is...a little hard to picture." Varric laughs. "But it sounds interesting. Mind if I use it?"

"For a book? Sure." I laugh. "Just make sure you mention me in your foreword."


	18. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if a bunch of you guys will shout or squeak at your screen while you read this chapter.

They took our horses as we entered the crossroads, as they should.

The Inquisition has little in the way of resources and sharing them is the best approach to bridging the gap. They will use the horses while we are in the Crossroads, doing whatever work the Seeker may assign outside of sealing rifts with Nik. Then when we leave, I assume we will take them with us to Haven to restart the cycle again.

Nik suggested they do this, with many reminders to rest and feed the horses. She seemed terrified they may accidentally work them to death. A valid concern.

The mark is fluctuating, though it seemed to be at the oddest of times until I realized what was causing it.

Nik is becoming stressed. Moreso by the minute with every sideways glance and whispered comment. They cannot see the mark under her glove, and so they focus on the elven mage and the Dwarf.

Her stress does not seem to elevate when they wonder who she is, or if they know and whisper equally offensive things about her. She did seem to flush dangerously red when the whispers turned salacious at one point- but she seemed more uncomfortable than angry or afraid.

We were stopped on our way in to the crossroads by Scouts who did not know her face. She had to mention Cassandra's name before they took our horses and went on their way, allowing us to enter freely.

I approved of the idea to hide the mark under a glove so that we may move with some anonymity- after all, painting a target on her back is wholly unnecessary.

Although I do consider asking her to remove it.

Every few steps it seemed we were accosted by a different soldier, scout or villager...asking why a mage was in the Crossroads. Some of them hopeful for more healers, some of them frightened of my 'dangerous potential' and demanding I leave.

Master Tethras drew on one of them as they attempted to intimidate Nik for a fine piece of jewelry I'm sure miss Montilyet gave her to wear.

She simply unclasped it and settled it in his palm. "I'm pretty sure it's worth at least a sovereign, but you'll have to find a noble or some other rich person to buy it, cause no one around here's buying anything but food and clothes and shit like that."

He walked away with a bemused expression on his face, and even managed a thank you beforehand. He seemed mystified and unsure if it was his threats or her generosity which brought the result about.

When Master Tethras asked _why_ , she responded: "I've got a place to sleep and food to eat and people are buying me clothes...what do I need jewelry for?" So honestly confused for a moment and then sheepish. "I should probably apologize to Josephine though...she should know I have the tendency to give my shit away."

Implying that it was a regular occurrence. Though from what I have seen from her so far, I believe it goes further than simply giving away her possessions. I would wager she goes out of her way to pay for others when she has the means and when she does not...she simply works herself to exhaustion.

And again the mystery of this woman is wrapped tightly around her with no threads to pluck at. When asked about her homeland, she becomes melancholic and nostalgic- but she is an open book. She responds to all questions with answers that are vague, but specific. Personal details are not omitted, but others are.

It is while I was considering the questions I could ask that a Templar stepped out of a nearby house and I heard the sound of a blade being drawn before the rush of what I am now sure must have been a smite- overtook me.

It was so unexpected and happened so quickly that I didn't realize what had happened until Nik began calling my name and clasping my shoulder as I knelt on the ground, trying to recover my senses.

"What happened?" Master Tethras draws his Bianca. "Whoa, back up."

"Filthy mages and their-"

"Shoot him in the knee, Varric." She says it so casually as she holds me upright.

The twang of his crossbow is followed by a howl of pain. "He's down."

"Good. Can you get Cassandra?" She is conversational as she turns to him. "She'll want to know about this. And a mage, if you can pull one away from the healing tents or something."

"Sure. On my way." Master Tethras walks away at a quick pace, but doesn't alarm anyone by running.

"Fucking-!" The Templar struggles and grasps at the joint of his knee where a crossbow bolt has pierced just under the knee-cap. "You're in it now, bitch!"

"Yes, I'm sure." She says, almost whimsically. "You just attacked the Arcane Advisor for the Inquisition, who was escorting the Herald of Andraste to the Crossroads in order to seal rifts and stabilize the area. There's no way _I_ won't be getting in trouble for telling Varric to put a dangerously unhinged Templar down with a non-lethal shot."

There is a silence after she is done as the Templar takes in this information, and his face contorts into something resembling horrified embarrassment.

A surprised laugh leaves me, though it is breathy and strained.

"What is going on?" The Seeker stalks huffily over to us with Master Tethras quick on her heels. "What happened?"

"This Templar attacked Solas as we were walking down the road here." Nik responds, still focused on me. She has not removed her fingertips from my neck- and it occurs to me she is monitoring my heart. "I had Varric shoot him in the knee to put him down, that okay?"

"We will take him into custody." The Seeker sneers down at the Templar. "I knew none of you rogues could be trusted. Deserting the Chantry, attacking people indiscriminately- you are a disgrace to the order!"

The Templar shrinks under the power of the Seeker's anger, and it is obvious who she is. "Lady Seeker, I didn't know-"

"It doesn't matter what you _knew_." Nik sits up and removes her fingers from the side of my throat. "You attacked someone who did nothing to you. He could've been a healer or just a fucking civilian with a walking stick!" She is standing by the time her tirade is done. "I don't care what you want to say, what you want to think but when you start attacking people for no reason- you're just a rabid dog!"

Her fists are clenched and her calm seems to desert her completely. The mark fluctuates wildly as she speaks. I will not be able to help her with magic. "Nik..." I cough and clutch my throat. I have never had the misfortune of being smited before.

Painful, uncomfortable and entirely inconvenient in every possible way.

"You!" She addresses someone. "You a mage?"

"Ye-yes, Lady Herald." A young woman judging from her voice.

"I don't know how mages recover from silencing or whatever that was, do you mind helping me with him?" She is suddenly at my side again, having forgotten the Templar completely it seems.

"Yes, of course my Lady!" The mage rushes to help her on my other side and I am soon standing under my own power...but the walk is excruciating and I stumble rather heavily into both of them many times before they're able to put me down before a fire on a log.

It hurts just to sit, no matter how gently they place me. It is as if my skin is peeled away and all that's left are nerves.

What ensues...does not only confuse me, but brings a hot flush to my face. I have not flushed quite this deeply in centuries.

She is _fussing_ over me. This is not something I have ever been used to. Even when I was young, no one paid this much attention to my needs or my pain.

"This tea should help, Lady Herald." The mage hands a cup to her on my left.

She laughs. "I know you hate tea, but come on."

I must be making a face.

"Hm." I hum in response, still unable to speak. It is as if there is a pocket of air caught in my throat. Speaking or breathing too deeply or shallowly will cause me to cough.

"Just knock it back like a shot." She says with a grin on her face, holding it out to me.

I throw her a look that I hope is more irritated than pleading. Medicinal teas taste worse than any other kinds.

"I could load it up with sugar, if that'd help?" She tilts her head and grins wider.

I can't feel my face, I have no idea what expression I'm making. Most likely still irritation if I managed to pull that off before.

"Come on, drink it and I'll stop bugging you." She pokes me in the side with a single fingertip and I flinch away. "Oh shit, sorry. I..." She puts the teacup down on a nearby tray. "I'm...gonna go see what Cassandra's doing with the Templar. Please make sure no one bothers him." She addresses the last to the mage and escapes as quickly as she possibly can.

I know how casually she touches people, of course. I've seen her reach out and grasp Varric's shoulder as she walks past him in Haven simply because she can. She holds Lady Montilyet's hand when they walk Haven so as not to get separated as she is very easily distracted.

She has never touched me. I believe she knows I am not used to it, though _how_ she knows that is less clear...

And she forgot. Just for a moment her concern and the apparent affection she holds for everyone who is around her for more than a moment overwhelmed her caution and she poked me. My reaction likely horrified her, she seems the type to be upset when she believes she has crossed a personal boundary.

And again everything about her is confusing and frustrates me to no end.

I will not be getting any answers this way, tongue-tied as I am.

I eye the tea with distaste and pick up the cup. I toss it back as she said, like a shot of whiskey and shake my head at the rush of bitterness and heat that flashes down my throat. It takes two more swallows to get the whole cup down- and I realize it has already made speech possible again.

A question occurs to me as I set the teacup back down and I go still as I consider it.

' _How did she know I don't like tea?_


	19. Chapter 19

I'm an ass.

Sighing and rubbing my left wrist, I walk up to Cassandra and Varric. "What's up?"

"Nik?" Cassandra turns and grasps my shoulders. "Are you alright?" She glances over my body, looking for obvious injuries. "Did the Templar injure you at all?"

"I shot him down before he could get near enough." Varric soothes her with a nonchalant tone. "She gave me the word and he went down like a sack of rocks."

"Yeah, I'm fine." I shrug and pat her hands on my shoulders.

She lets me go, but still looks disgruntled. "I told Cullen this would happen."

"To be fair, most Templars are addicts." I hum and tilt my head. "He could be suffering from withdrawal along with all the other problems going on lately and that'd drive anybody to rash action if they perceived a threat." Inhaling and sighing deeply, I lick my lips. "Still, I'm pissed he hurt Solas. I don't know what a smite does but it looked painful as hell."

The anger is festering in my chest, getting hotter and more uncomfortable by the moment. An arrow to the knee was not enough, I think.

"I have heard from some mages that it is...quite painful, yes." Cassandra admits. "I have only ever considered that a mage deserves the pain if they are being disruptive or destructive to society...but this was wrong. This was an abuse of power." I can tell it's really bothering her. Still...

"Maybe you should try and keep an eye on Solas." I say, hesitant. "I'm worried this might be a...common occurrence. You've heard how smart he is, and seen how outspoken he can be. If someone gets it in their head that they can hurt him-"

"I will watch out for him whenever possible." Cassandra dips her head. "He came to us when we needed someone most and we subjected him to tests and even took his staff until we'd verified he was not a blood mage. And he has only been helpful since. He should not have to pay for his trust with abuse."

"I agree." I nod and then narrow my eyes, feeling a spike of vindictive anger. "I want to break his arm."

There's surprise on Cassandra's face. "The Templar's?"

"Yes." My whole body feels rigid and hot. "There are healers, so it'd be fixed before long- and he'd have almost the same experience of pain he'd forced Solas to have. Seems fair...but I may be slightly too angry to determine what's fair right now." After all, the arrow to the knee was totally called for.

I'd have to do something unwarranted and completely out of the blue to equal...but I can't, because my anger is a cause. My knowing him personally is a reason. Which means justice can only happen through fucking Karma.

Cassandra seems at a loss.

So Varric steps between us and laughs a little nervously. "So. That Rift we were going to seal up...we still doing that?"

"I don't believe I would be able to stabilize the mark in my current condition." The smooth voice from behind me is startling enough to send me reeling forward into Cassandra, nearly tripping into Varric. "Apologies." He's quieter than usual, but there's Solas.

Standing behind me and looking just as flat and contemplative as ever. Looking at me like a puzzle or something.

"God, Solas- make noise!" I huff and run my fingers through my hair, suddenly flushed and feeling more embarrassed than is probably called for. Not only did he probably hear my psychopathic muttering about breaking someone's arm, he startled me into a graceless stumble and now I'm vomiting words without thinking.

It's surprising to see an amused smirk perk one side of his mouth. "Perhaps you should be more aware of your surroundings."

"What do you suggest, Solas?" Cassandra steps around me, hands dropping from my arms where she'd instinctively grabbed me to steady me.

"Waiting until tomorrow." He responds flatly. "I will be unable to regulate the mark's energy until I have slept and recovered." He's still speaking really softly, I wonder if his throat still hurts. His eyes flick over to meet mine. "May we speak?"

I think I'm turning redder now, remembering how I fucked up and touched him without even thinking about it. He flinched and his eyes fluttered wide like he was _shocked_. I feel bad. Like...I don't even know, but it's awful. "Yes?" I'm pretty sure I sound scared.

"Alone, if you please." He turns away and walks toward the outskirts of the Crossroads.

I shrug at Cassandra when she sends me a look and roll my eyes when Varric squints at me- and then I follow Solas.

He likely only wants to talk to me about the Templar or how to handle the rift tomorrow, but I'm still feeling kind of...afraid. Of what he might say. No only because he might be upset with me for something I did or said- but because I know the more time I spend with Solas, talk with Solas, the more he'll know me and the more I'll know him.

I am not a people person. I never have been.

I can talk people around to my side of things, and I know how people work on a level that most don't- but that doesn't mean that open and honest communication is easy. And I refuse to communicate in any other way with all of them.

I get tongue-tied easily when I can't figure out the words to communicate my ideas the way I want them received. I stutter when I realize I've said something that could be construed another way besides how I meant it and always turn bright red when I'm embarrassed or angry. I have no control over my facial expression when I'm being honest.

I hate being honest.

He stops at the treeline with me right behind him and turns to face me after a long moment of silence.

"You need to control your emotions." He says.

I blink. "My...what?" Okay, wasn't expecting that. Point to Solas.

"The mark is responding to your anxiety." He tells me, giving me a look when he sees the horror on my face.

"Oh..." I drop my head and rub my eyes with my palms. "Fuck. That's...that's a problem."

"Yes." He agrees and when I look up, he's leaning back against a tree. Left foot tucked up against the bark, arms crossed. "If your stress levels are too high and your emotions are out of control, the mark will react as if being attacked. It will lash out, perhaps at you perhaps at others around you."

"No I mean, I have trouble controlling my emotions." I admit in a small voice, looking away from him. "My anxiety, my depression- even sometimes happiness and anger...they get out of control and I can't reign them in."

"I could help you, if you were to allow me." The tone of his voice is deadpan and there's a sarcastic cadence to it.

I shrink into myself a little, wondering what I've done to make him angry with me. "I'd like help, if you really think I need it."

"Are you certain?" He asks with skepticism heavy in his gaze as I peer up at him from behind a curtain of hair. "You will not look at me, barely speak to me."

I cringe a little inwardly. "I...I'm sorry."

Something about my posture, my voice or the way my hands are clenched around each other as if in prayer must get to him. He steps away from the tree, searching my face with a curious expression. "What is it about me that bothers you?"

I blink and straighten, shoulders dropping from their raised position. "You don't bother me." Well. Not _exactly_ true, but it has nothing to do with _him_. Not really.

"You have no problem with the mages and elves in Haven." He says, watching me closely as he speaks. "You are close to both Master Tethras and the Seeker." His lips press together and his nose crinkles a bit before he continues. "I am the only one you avoid."

My whole body flushes pink, I think. I can feel the heat there, and I can feel it begin to get hotter as I realize I have no idea what to tell him. My embarrassment _has_ to be visible, but he just keeps staring at me quizzically.

"I...I'll stop doing that." I say slowly, biting my lip. "If we can...agree on something."

His eyes narrow and his head tilts. "Agree about what?"

"You don't like it when people ask about your past, I've noticed." I sigh when he goes still. "I don't like it either. So...could you stop asking so many? I mean, ask about me if you want. But not...the place where I came from." My lips are quivering, I can feel it. And I can hear the shiver in my voice. "I really don't want to talk about it yet." After Corypheus, I can tell them all. Him, the rest of them, all of them.

He looks so at a loss, with his lips parted and his eyes so softly confused as he stares at me.

"And I...would like it if you'd stop looking so directly at me like you do." I wanna smack myself in the face. "Your eyes are really sharp and...piercing, you know?"

He huffs a little, amusement and something else mixing together. "My eyes are sharp?"

I feel _really_ warm right now. I really want this conversation to be over. "Please. Just...please?"

He tilts his head and stares at me really hard for a moment, and I can't keep eye contact _at all_. " _Ma nuvenin._ "

" _Ma serannas, Hahren-_ " I stop still and the air around me freezes while the blood in my body rushes so loudly it's nearly a roar. I hadn't meant to do that.

"I did wonder how much Elvhen you knew." He says, a smile curling the edge of his mouth. "Would you like to know more?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? Told ya it'd resolve differently. lol
> 
> Ma nuvenin - As you say, as you wish, along those lines.
> 
> Ma serannas - My thanks
> 
> Hahren - Honored elder. Like an honorific for an older, wiser person.


	20. Solas POV

Her body is more attuned to the mark, but closing the rifts still causes stress.

"Ow..." She mutters under her breath as I press a healing spell to her wrist.

My protections keep the mark from migrating any further up her arm, but their power and range are limited when faced with such immense power being funneled across the connection between the mark and the rifts.

"It was much less damaging this time." I speak absent-mindedly as I examine the rest of her arm. "Only your wrist was effected."

"It's a good thing I'm right-handed or this would really suck for...stuff." She responds. Finishing her sentence stiffly as if she nearly slipped and said something else. She does it often.

I feel my mouth curve into a slight smile, perhaps not even enough to be noticed. "Stuff?"

"Reports and plans and...that...kind of stuff." She says, clearing her throat. There is the most curious flush inching over her face again. I have found she is easily flustered, even when speaking about the most mundane things.

"You could always ask Master Tethras to do that for you." It is, after all, his chosen vocation. She should be seeking to delegate her duties, even if it is simply to find someone to put down her words for her. It is what all nobility does. They hire people to do everything for them.

"He writes a lot already, I don't want him hurting himself." She says, staring down at my hands wrapped around her arm. "What are you doing?" Curious, but still uncomfortable. I don't know if it's simply that she is not used to healing magic, but she leans away or inhales sharply when I use it.

"I am examining the muscle in your arm. You stressed it before you ever got the mark, and then closing the rift below the breach disconnected many of your nerves and muscle tissue from your bones, skin and..." I pause when I see the grimace on her face. "I am not a healer, but I can at least make certain their work is going well."

"Hey." Master Tethras walks over to us, putting Bianca back into place over his shoulder. "All in one piece?"

"She is fine." I respond, releasing her arm and giving her a smile that I intend to be reassuring. "She will be a bit sore, but nothing is too badly damaged."

She looks away, her face turning a light pink. Preferring to focus on Master Tethras. "Did you see any rams around?"

"Rams? Yeah, a few." He shrugs and gestures back the way we came. "There's probably a lot of 'em in the area."

"Do you mind helping me hunt some of them?" She asks. "I saw one of the Templar's mercenaries had a crossbow, you could teach me."

"Sure. If you think you're up for it." He approves, smiling warmly and nodding. "Need the rams for any particular reason? We could always start with a target on a tree."

"I was actually hoping you'd hunt the Rams and I'd shoot pinecones on rocks or something." She stands and brushes dirt off of her pants. "The people at the crossroads are hungry. And cold."

I pause as I stand as well, only for a moment but she seems to notice. Looking up at me with wide eyes and then glancing away with that familiar flush to her face, as if ashamed. Shoulders hunching just a bit, as if she expects recrimination or...

I smile, attempting to be gentle. She is so easily cowed it would be cruel to be anything else, now that I know. "I can help with that, as well."

She fidgets. "Probably a good idea to get as many as possible..." Then rakes her teeth over her bottom lip as she turns and walks away.

Master Tethras is chuckling and shaking his head as he follows her. "How many are we talking, here?"

The Seeker is watching from her place against a tree nearby until they pass by her. She turns and follows, contributing to the conversation.

I slow until I am several paces behind all of them, watching them interact.

Cassandra surprisingly open and affectionate toward her, putting a hand on her shoulder or nudging her in the side with her arm.

Master Tethras watchful, warm. Never asking directly what he wants to know, but inferring it from other reactions, other answers to other questions.

Nik reacts to both of them similarly, but differently. Standing tall and straight-backed when speaking to Cassandra but slipping into a slouch when she turns her attention to Master Tethras.

And when she glances over her shoulder, looking for me- eyes wide and curious, before they turn away and her skin begins to color once again.

I am certain there is another factor aside from my pointed questions and gaze...she seems only affected by mine. When Master Tethras and Cassandra ask questions that are thoughtlessly probing, she smoothly bats them away with a change of subject or a request not to speak of it.

She picks up the crossbow knocked from the hands of a mercenary and Master Tethras begins instructing her. How to hold it, how to load it, how to shoot it.

She is ready to learn, always. Asking for more knowledge about everything, always.

She has asked the Seeker about Nevarra and Master Tethras about the Free Marches until the conversation topic was exhausted or became tedious for them. Asking about dragon slaying and smuggling operations and gaining stories that were sparse or greatly over-exaggerated for her trouble.

She only asks me about magic. Spirits. The Fade. Shows an uncommon interest in it when I have seen for myself that she holds no magic within. A human woman, not a mage- simply curious. I have never come across questions about magic that were simply curious in this new time- in Thedas.

Not from someone who was not a mage, and usually only followed by denials that my knowledge was worth anything from those who were.

"Solas!" She calls over the gap between us as she walks away with Master Tethras. "Go the other way with Cassandra, we'll meet back up in the middle!"

I sigh, my shoulders falling into a slouch. "She does not think before she acts."

The Seeker sidles over to me from her place nearby, where she watched Master Tethras instruct Nik silently and thoughtfully. "You said she would be fine, Solas."

"And if they are attacked? A lone woman unable to fight, and a rogue with a crossbow?" I argue. "No offense to Master Tethras and his abilities, but they are best utilized when in the presence of a warrior. Or a mage."

"We cleared the area they are going to search." She responds, remarkably calm as we walk in the other direction, as Nik instructed. "And I trust your assessment. It seems she does as well."

My footsteps nearly falter at that realization.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving you guys a double today. Partly just cause I love you guys and partly cause I felt Chapter 20 was too short.

"That Terror earlier seemed pretty hard on you, you alright?" Varric asks me, as we walk down the steps of the fortress of the rift cult.

My lip stings as I bite it, I must be doing that a lot today. "Anxiety stems from fear, so it's...especially rough on someone like me."

I can still remember the sick gnawing in my gut and the spin of the world around me just before the tip of the blade on Solas's staff had sunk deep into the demon's hide and a jolt of lightning had finally ended it. The influence lingered after that, but I'm pretty sure it was just because my anxiety stays up when it gets high rather than anything the demon could've done after death...

"Wait." Solas's quiet voice pauses all of us when we reach the bottom of the steps.

We all look at him, and he's standing perfectly still next to Cassandra just behind me.

"Solas?" She asks.

He shakes his head. "I sense something familiar. I wish to investigate." Why is he looking at me?

"A magic thing?" I ask, suddenly wanting to slap myself in the face. There's an artifact in here that I forgot about- real life doesn't have quest triggers, duh!

"An...artifact." He speak slowly. "I believe I've run across them before. My research in the past has indicated they were used to measure and strengthen the Veil...it could protect this area from further tears."

"Lead the way, then." Stepping back, I gesture for him to go ahead of me. I have no idea if that's the truth or a half-truth or a lie. "Varric, do you mind finding out from the people here if they know who owns this land?"

I try not to swallow my tongue when Solas brushes past me. _How_ does he always smell so crisp and clean!?

"Sure, I'll get on that. Anais probably has some idea." He turns and saunters off toward the leader of the pack, who is addressing her people and instructing them in their packing.

"And perhaps the Seeker should stay here." Solas turns and walks backward up the staircase as we get to the other side of the courtyard. "I prefer not to work magic with Templar or Seeker abilities nearby if I have the choice."

He actually looks really uncomfortable with the idea of it, which is why I think Cassandra agrees. "I will ward any curious onlookers away, as well."

Crap. I follow him up the staircase, wondering why he needs _me_ to come with him at all...oh. Wait. The mark is always what activates them, right? That's right.

"You smacked that boy across the face." He mutters as we walk up the stairs and pauses before a ladder that will lead us to the higher levels. Gives me a look, not disapproving or approving- just searching. "You seemed incensed."

Hyndel. The Shallow breaths quest line. In which a bratty mage boy left both his parents to join a cult, knowing that his father couldn't make the potion his mother needed just to _breathe_ sometimes. It's like a kid taking off with the family's only inhaler.

And then the kid says 'Mother's always having an attack, she'll be fine'. And you just...

"'Seemed' being the operative word." I was a little annoyed and he was _so_ entitled...but I don't go around hitting people just because I'm mad. "Do you know what happens to young adults like that if you don't snap them out of their...narcissism?" It's the only word I can come up with, then I throw in a few more that also don't fit but are close. "Bull-headed-ness, entitlement, whatever?"

He doesn't move up the ladder, but instead studies me before responding, resting _against_ the ladder. Oh boy. This is one of those conversations that _matters_ , isn't it?

"What do you think happens?" He asks, stark curiosity written all over him.

I sigh and bite my lip, flicking my eyes around the room, everywhere but at him. "If a kid grows up believing they're special it can be as damaging as believing they're _not_." I begin to pace around in a small circle. "If you encourage a kid, great. But don't tell them they're naturally better than everyone else in some way. Because then they assume that being better in that way makes them better than _everyone-_ other than people like them, and sometimes even then."

He's still watching me, attentive and pointed gaze fixed to me when I glance over at him.

I turn away because I can't see his expression or I'll freak and trail off and try to change the subject and he might just dig deeper then. "Telling a child that they're stupid, or a genius- ultimately you have the same result. A kid with a warped self-image. Whether they believe they're less or more, it fucks with their head and it's really a toss-up whether they become a good person or a bad one. And by good and bad, I mean the usual definitions." I gesture with my hand. "Murderers and thieves- bad, people who lawfully police them- good, civilians who follow the rules- good."

"Why do you qualify it that way?" He asks.

 _Fuck-_ I'm being interesting aren't I? "There is no real good or evil in the world, not the way people perceive it." I say, grudging and tight-lipped. "There are different reactions to different stimuli and people who are into different things than other people."

He makes a noise, inquisitive I think. I don't want to analyze anything about him right now. I'll have a panic attack.

I shrug. "What I meant is: If that kid goes on thinking he's better than everyone for the rest of his life...he could be as bad as the magisters in Tevinter one day. Or maybe not. But a little humility never hurt anyone when they're acting like assholes. It may change nothing, but it may also stick in his mind. I don't like hitting people, not unless it's for a purpose. I express anger in...different ways."

Most of the time in _artistic_ ways, which I'm kind of hoping he knows nothing about, yet.

I turn around with my head ducked, trying not to look at his face or anywhere near him. "Weren't we doing something important?" I mutter.

"Ah...yes." He pulls himself up the ladder and I follow him up.

He actually pauses to watch me crawl out of the hole in the floor and I almost wonder why before I remember the last time I'd climbed a ladder in front of him.

I immediately turn pink and sit on the floor with my shoulders hunched, waiting for him to go to the obvious artifact on the balcony. Much smaller than in-game, more like a paperweight, actually...

But he doesn't. He stands there and stares at me and then he tilts his head and- "You wouldn't have done that if you didn't think it would have some effect." He speaks slowly. "But if it did not, then what?"

I frown and give him a look. Why is this so important? I know he has a low opinion of people who use their fists to solve problems, but in that case he should just disapprove and not...whatever this is. "Then he probably can't be snapped out of it. Which would mean the effort itself was pointless."

"Why do something if it has such a large chance of not doing what you want?" He asks, stumbling over his words for a moment in a way that's uncharacteristic of him. "Why risk it if you do not like the path you will have to take _or_ the possible result?"

This is sounding suspiciously like the conversation he has with the Inquisitor when they inadvertently encourage him to bring down the Veil.

I think about it for a moment and phrase my answer carefully. "I can't control how someone else will react to me. But I can control how _I_ act, what _I_ do. That wasn't me trying to make someone live life the way I do. Not really."

I muse for a moment as he waits a bit impatiently now for the rest of my answer. The air around him is tight with tension- like a real, palpable sensation. It makes me shiver, but not in the good way.

"I can decide what I do and don't like, and do whatever I have to in order to communicate my displeasure if I perceive someone else acting in a way counter to that. Whether that communication needs to be more forceful to get my point across or not, depends on my assessment of that person. Their disposition and whether I think they could possibly think the same way I do." I shrug and sigh, giving up. "He could hate me, he could disregard what I was trying to show him, or he could turn his life around and start reminding himself to be humble. Any way he goes, it's up to him. I was just a _catalyst_ that made him see another side to himself. All those sides would be valid, whether or not I'd approve of them."

I gesture with my hands, in a shrug. "I can't change him, and I wouldn't want to- a change that's been forced is just going to revert back at some point. But I could _show_ him what I think of how he's acting. If he doesn't like it, he'll analyze why and decide whether or not he wants to be a 'good' or 'bad' person." I chew my bottom lip and glance up from under my hair. "I gave it a shot. I probably had no effect whatsoever...but he seemed sensitive, so maybe I did."

His brow is furrowed and his eyes are focused really _really_ pointedly on mine. I have to look away.

"Are you saying..." He shakes his head and pauses to think. "That you hit him because you believed from the scant time you'd spoken to him that it would have some sort of effect...but you didn't care _what_ effect it had?" He looks so confused and sort of irritated it almost makes me laugh.

In a totally not-hysterical way...

"It isn't about caring." I retort. "I can care all I want, but it won't effect someone else's decisions. If I didn't care, I wouldn't have said or done anything. There are moments in life when people challenge you, and you learn who you are." I shrug. "He seemed intelligent and sensitive and his behavior seemed...counter to his purpose?" I huff. "Ignorant, I mean. He seemed ignorant. I wanted to educate him." I plant my chin in my hands. "It isn't my right to do that though, I need to stop that."

"Why?" He asks now, looking at me like I'm crazy. "Simply because I am asking for a reason?"

I lift a brow at him. "Because I shouldn't decide for someone else when they have a moment of self-reflection." I shrug. "There are enough hardships in life, even if they aren't the kind to give you a specific quandary...I'm not god." I flick my wrist in a small gesture. "It's just really hard not to do something you really really _feel_ could help someone if you do it right."

I've always had this problem. Trying to help people learn about themselves and about other people, always believing that understanding will bring the desired result. Which is usually peace or acceptance. But oftentimes once someone does finally understand, it's nothing like what you want it to be. They're just _knowing_ assholes, then.

I purse my lips and narrow my eyes at the floor. "But I have to get a better handle on that. Hard or not, helping or not- it isn't up to me to decide how they live their lives or how they think."

It's silent for a long moment and then I hear him walking over to the artifact. "Here it is." He says, quietly. "Would you mind activating it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me that a couple times in the story-- Nik was behaving outside her character or without the appropriate self-recriminations. I guess I felt they were implied, but implying something in a story isn't good without words.
> 
> XP


	22. Solas POV

"Ah, shit." Varric expresses his discontentment with the scene and that is what brings Nik out of her rumination, I believe. She has been silent for the past half hour at least, looking alternately melancholy and pained- but she does not ask for healing. The mark is stable, so I do not offer.

I don't know what it is that makes her hesitate to ask for help, but I must respect the decision not to ask. No matter how much I disapprove of it...

"Oh." It's soft and nearly silent. She looks up the slight incline to the farmstead to our left and blinks- recognition entering her eyes. And then sorrow, anger, a whole range of emotion before she even knows what has occurred.

How many options for this could there truly be in this time of war and magical disaster, I wonder?

The woman could be burying a significant other, a child, an older parent. It could be due to old age, a disease, an animal attack...

But we all think the same thing as we gaze up that hill at that woman weeping and attempting to fill a large hole with a small shovel.

' _This was the war, or the rifts.'_

I'm sure we're all thinking the same. And since there don't seem to be any rifts nearby- this must have been either a mage or a templar's doing. It is entirely possible it was a natural death if there _is_ such a thing... I shiver and shake my head.

Nik sighs. "She looks exhausted, she's shaking. Crying probably doesn't make it any easier. What do you want to bet she dug that grave by herself this morning?"

My hand tightens on the staff in it, nearly cracking the frail wood. "She does look incredibly taxed."

"I'm going to help." She says, to all of our surprise. Nik climbs the small incline and gestures at us to stay behind, giving the Seeker and myself a glance.

' _If it was Mages, I will not be welcome. If it was Templars...I may still not be welcome.'_ I doubt a grieving woman will care what side I am on. So I stay.

The Seeker is a Templar in better armor, and so she stays as well. Whereas I believe Master Tethras prefers to see how Nik will handle the situation, to better understand her.

She walks over to the woman and the Seeker shifts when the woman brandishes her shovel as if to attack or defend herself.

Nik doesn't move or flinch or falter. She reaches out a careful hand and I can hear her voice only slightly from where we stand. "Can I help with that?"

The woman blinks confused eyes, and I can see her jaw shift from where I stand. "Why d'you want'a help me?"

Nik turns and looks at the grave, dropping her outstretched hand. "I don't really have a reason. I just want to make sure you don't collapse from exhaustion before you're done. I'm with the Chantry, and I'd like to help you put him to rest." She turns her head back and I see the flash of a small smile before she is turned away from me and toward the woman again. "And if you'd rather pray to the elven gods, I know them too."

The woman heard 'Chantry' and something in her became lax. Then the offer of an elven blessing set her spine to straightening. "You know...the elven gods?"

Nik nods. "I've known a couple Dalish and read a couple texts, it isn't much- but I know which of the gods is the friend to the dead, at least."

Even knowing she only offers to be kind, the mention of the Dalish gods is enough to make my teeth grind. Falon'din, great friend to the dead indeed. So great a friend he brought death many souls in his time. Regardless of insult, regardless of intent- even simply because it pleased him.

"I worship the Maker." The woman speaks slowly. "If you are aligned with the Chantry, I would like a blessing. We were never...we never knew anything about the Elven gods."

Never knew anything about their history at all, I'm sure. A sick churn of my gut and I'm inhaling deeply to calm my nerves. Again and again I feel the loss of everything. My People, their past, their future, their everything.

' _My fault.'_

"I can do that for you." Nik turns toward the grave and reaches out to the woman again. "Shovel?"

The woman pries her fingers from the wood and hands it to her, shivering and settling upon the ground on her knees.

"Is she going to do it all by herself?" Varric mutters. "She's not really the working type, is she? I know she says she's not nobility but she's..."

"If she injures herself, I will see to her healing." I watch as she begins scooping dirt into the hole, speaking as she does so.

"Andraste is the Prophet of the Maker, and had to die to reach his side." She speaks. "So it is said we go to the Maker's side after death, after traveling the Fade on our way to the Void." Conversational, quiet. "Who were they to you? This person?"

The woman raises her head long enough to say, "my husband."

"Ah." She moves around the hole, filling in another section with the rich, black earth. "Then you are connected even in death." Nik uses the shovel to scoop the dirt into the grave rather than lifting and dropping it. "No matter whether you ever marry again, or not- you will always be connected to him and he to you. And when you finally go to the Maker's side, he will be waiting for you."

The woman bows her head further, hands on the ground as they curl into fists. "Shouldn't have happened."

"Do you know why it did?" Nik asks, still going about her task.

"Fucking...Templars!" The woman hisses. "Killed him for nothin'. Said he _could've been_ a mage...took his wedding ring..." She is strangling on her words as she goes on. "Won't ever face any justice, will they? The Maker's chosen. What does the Maker care for us, then? Eh?" She looks up at Nik as she pauses in her work. "You're a priest or somethin' aren't you? So what, did my husband need to die?" She sneers. "Was it the Maker's plan?"

Nik blinks, placid and calm. "No."

The Seeker sighs from beside me. Varric shakes his head.

Nik tilts her head and returns to her work as she speaks. "It wasn't the Maker who chose the Templars, it was the Chantry. The Maker only has so much control over what the Chantry does, you know." She speaks as if in belief- when we all know she does not believe at all. "It's said he created everything, and turned his back on the people of Thedas after the first sin. But that's a story that was written by people, wasn't it?"

The woman watches her with wide eyes. I am certain this discussion has been had many times before, and never once has gone this direction.

"Humans especially, skew the stories of the Maker." Nik goes on. "Even going so far as to erase stanzas in their own Chant of Light in order to put themselves above the other races. There was a Canticle of Shartan, did you know that?"

The woman shakes her head, silent and attentive.

"No of course not." Nik says, so nonchalant. "Because when they marched on the Dales, they erased it."

The Seeker is watching with furrowed brows and crossed arms, perhaps angry or perhaps simply confused. By her own admission, she believes Nik is somehow chosen or holy in some way. To discount her words about the faith itself would be difficult for her.

' _How does she know these things?'_ Nik does not have the capacity to lie. I have noticed she does not always speak directly but she never outright lies, much like myself. If she tried, it is likely she would be horrific at it…

Or, based on her own personal beliefs, her personality…perhaps she is particularly _good_ at it.

"So what are you sayin'?" The woman asks. "What does it mean?"

"It means that the Maker is who you feel he is." Nik replies. "He is everything and everyone. Creator of the world and all its people. He is the benevolent father who gave you life- and the man who forever mourns the death of each and every one of his creations." She speaks with surety. "Because creation is itself a labor of love and anger and sadness and every other emotion you could possibly feel at any one time. He created us to be people. Which means he rejoices in all of us, and when we end each other's lives it is not the act of worshipers and supplicants but...his own children."

Nik's brow is furrowed now. "If you had two kids, and one killed the other...what would you do? How would you feel?"

The woman bows her head, new tears tracing over her cheeks. "So I should, what? Forgive 'em? Because they're the Maker's children too?"

"Oh, no." Nik denies. "On the contrary. I'm telling you that the Maker is the father who can't get involved because his children have to make their own decisions and learn to live their own lives without him."

Nik sighs and moves around the grave once again. "What you feel about this is what you feel. And the Maker feels it with you. What you decide to say and do and how you choose to handle this situation is your own. He can't take that from you or he'd just be a puppet master."

"Why would he let this happen?" The woman asks, so tired and so drained from grief and anger. She is malleable, open to suggestion.

I watch with 'sharp' eyes, to see what her response will be.

"Well, parents are fallible." Nik responds. "So too is the Maker in his own godly way." She gives the woman a smile. "Because he loves and perfectly understands _all_ of us, he can't just punish the wicked and protect the righteous. He has to give them choices and chances and allow them to make mistakes."

"What's the point?" The woman asks, scrubbing her face with dirty hands. "What's the point if belief can't protect you?"

"It isn't supposed to protect you." Nik responds, scooping in the last pile of dirt, much more quickly and efficiently than we had expected her to.

' _Has she dug and filled graves before?'_ Or is this simply one of the areas of knowledge she's stumbled into in her boredom and anxiety avoidance?

"Faith is supposed to be something that picks you up when you get knocked down." She goes on. "Not because of some force beyond your control, but because of a piece of yourself, deep down inside- that says: 'no. I'm not giving up. I'm not done yet.'" She smooths the top of the mound as best she can. "Faith helps you to believe in life- not because it's going to be blissful and perfect someday, but because it was worth the pain. Would you choose to go back in time and make it so you'd never married him- erase all your memories of your time together just to avoid this pain?"

The woman blinks tiredly at the grave. "...no."

"What were your happy moments?" Nik turns to her, putting down the shovel. "You can take a moment to think and then we can talk about them, if you like. Or not. Whatever you want."

The Seeker turns and walks to the trees, settling herself down next to one of them. Master Tethras follows suit, a bit further away. I know they are giving them the illusion of privacy, but I cannot leave Nik alone. Especially not with an unknown woman who may or may not snap under the pressure of grief and fear and confusion.

I sigh and walk up the incline toward them.

Nik glances in my direction. "I have a mage with me, he's a pretty good healer- maybe you should ask him to look at you."

The woman glances at me, no fear in her eyes but instead resignation. "I don't care." She then stares at the ground with hollow eyes.

Nik gives me a glance and I don't have to ask what she wants me to do.


	23. Chapter 23

Turns out Maura's overtaxed her body so badly that she won't be able to move tomorrow if she doesn't get some pretty intense healing and take a potion before bed.

I was kind of expecting that she'd pulled something or damaged her muscles, but the way Solas looked down at her with a pained kind of horror...

She couldn't see the look, thank god, as he was behind her.

She told me some stories while he was examining her- enough to send me off into the forest with Cassandra once she was taken inside.

Now there are wildflowers planted from one end of the grave to the other, all over the top of it. The ones he'd bring her when they were courting. Blue and white with little fuzzy leaves and petals with edges that look like the steps on a staircase. Beautiful and dainty and almost dangerous looking.

Everything in Thedas seems to be like that.

I also collected a bunch of colorful rocks and arranged them around the sides of the mound to mark the edges of the grave more clearly.

"You are very good at things like this." Cassandra observes me as I put the last handful of rocks in place. "Josephine showed me the designs you were planning to use for the brooches."

I take a deep breath and sigh with my head dropping. "I like to keep busy and creating artistic things...takes a lot of time and energy and effort in most cases."

"You are also quite good at speaking with the bereaved." Cassandra hesitates and I just know she's about to ask something about my little conversation with Maura. "Do you believe what you said, or was it simply...like your other theories?"

I hum and notice that it's the question with the least complex answer I can think of right now. So that's better than it could've been. "I believe the forces of nature and the people and everything in between are all made up of the same stuff and that that stuff is alive." I inform her. "Whether you want to call it by another name, like the Maker or one of the Elven gods or even one of the Old Gods of Tevinter...there is something that makes up everything and is part of everyone. I do believe that."

Cassandra digests this information as Varric sidles over with a sigh. "Someone higher up in the chain of command said no."

Cassandra looks at him like he's nuts. "There is no one higher in the chain of command than I, here. The only one who could say 'no' to me is Cullen, and he is in Haven."

"Some guy, some...Lieutenant Brine?" Varric sees the still lingering confusion on Cassandra's face. "He uh...yeah, you need to address that, I think."

"I will." Cassandra promises, with a dark expression on her face. "I would have to leave now to make it there before dark." She turns to me.

"I'm staying with Maura." I put my hands up. "Have to. She might...be in a dangerous frame of mind. Besides the altruistic, we could use all the help we can get and she has a workable farm here. We could lend her some farm hands, she could help produce food for our people..."

Cassandra sighs. "I suppose. But you cannot stay alone."

"I will stay with her."

I jolt and nearly trip over the shovel. Cassandra has to catch me and pull me back toward her to avoid that. "Damn!"

"Apologies." Solas doesn't seem very sorry. In fact he seems amused every time this happens.

"Stop smirking at me." I pout.

He smirks a little wider. "Am I smirking?"

"Fine, then." Cassandra says. "If Solas will stay with you, then I will take Varric back to the Crossroads and pick you both up in the morning." She turns and begins walking away. "Come, Varric."

He walks after her muttering, "what am I, a Mabari?"

Solas walks over to me as they go, and holds out his hands. He lifts both brows when I give him a quizzical look.

Then I roll my eyes and put both my hands up where he can grasp them.

I know you don't need to touch to heal, but maybe Solas does it differently than actual healers because he's not one. Any which way you slice it, he's in charge of my health and so long as he's not groping me in inappropriate places (pfft!), I have nothing to complain about.

He takes my hands and a wave of magic sweeps over me in a sudden rush that makes me inhale sharply, and I have to control my urge to step the fuck away.

"Well, you haven't managed to pull anything or otherwise strain yourself..." Solas tells me, releasing my hands. "But I'd recommend nothing more strenuous today if you want to keep it that way."

"I feel fine. I only planned on some legwork, anyway." I respond, walking around him. "I'll be right back-"

And I stop and let my head drop because he's caught my arm and is now doing an impression of Cassandra. "You are not going anywhere alone."

"We just cleared the entire way down here and there are going to be patrols set up here pretty soon." I turn and stare at the hand on my arm. "There's no danger _now._ "

"Nik." He pauses and takes a breath, as if girding himself before an argument with a simpleton. That's a little insulting. "What happens if your anxiety spikes while you are alone? You have said yourself that is when it is at its worst."

' _I should never tell him_ _ **anything**_ _.'_ I grumble internally.

"It should only take a few minutes to get back there, and a few to walk back here." I tug lightly with the arm in his grasp, half to try and get away and half…well, half just to feel his hand tighten around my arm. Yes, I _am_ that pathetic. "Would you even know what to look for?" I sigh.

The surprise on his face is obvious, but he doesn't drop my arm. "What would you be looking for?"

"The ring, obviously." I lift a brow. "We ran across two different groups of Templars in the same area, and they'd been in that area for a couple days at least. Cassandra examined the camp with Varric, remember? You even said they'd been there a while." I shrug, enjoying the slight resistance in my arm where it's still connected to him. "So it would have to be one of them- and if not…" I purse my lips. "I have to at least _try_ to find it."

He stands there silent for a moment, eyes searching my face before dropping my arm. "You will stay with Maura. No arguments?"

"I don't care _who_ gets the ring." I toss my hands up and roll my eyes. "I just want to be able to resolve this for her. She'll know they're dead and have what they took, it'll help her to feel less…"

He's giving me a look, I can't figure out what it means. Narrowed eyes, one lifted brow and mouth in a straight line.

"What?" I ask, blinking at him.

"And this has absolutely nothing to do with using her farm to produce resources for the Inquisition?" He asks.

I roll my eyes. "You can believe whatever you want, I don't care. Just get the ring or _I_ will." And then I turn around and walk into the farmhouse to take care of Maura.


	24. Solas POV, Nik POV, Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooo different from the original way it went.

It was easy enough to find.

The ring made of sylvanwood, with inlaid designs of vines and Elvhen words…incorrectly used.

Just to look at the botched wedding blessing is a spear in my heart and a twinge behind my eyes. Not only painful to remember what is lost, but a clue to how closely those left cling to the fragments.

I was horrified to see the damage Maura had done to herself in her efforts to bury her dead husband. Pulled and bruised muscles, even deeper nerve injuries I was unable to heal. She would need an actual healer or time to recover while lying in bed, doing nothing.

It is likely Nik will assign someone to watch her, either mage or soldier whether she agrees to help the Inquisition or not. An assistant or nurse until the woman can see to the farm on her own again.

' _Nothing she does makes sense.'_ It never does. _'Offering so much open generosity could simply be an image she intends to cultivate, but it could also…'_ It could simply be who she _is_.

But that can't be. No one in this world is that way anymore. There was only one before and she is…gone. In all the ways that count. Though, naivete isn't quite the same as generosity or selflessness. You must be aware of what you are sacrificing, after all…

I tuck the ring into my pocket and begin the walk back to the farm.

I halt when I have a feeling. Like dirt, earth-

Reality. Templa-

 

* * *

 

Nik POV

"I just don' see the point." Maura drank the health potion Solas insisted on and I got her to lie down. But now she's a little drunk, I think. "Wha's tha point?"

Solas said the Elvhen word was _Feladara_. For Elfroot. I'm learning a bunch of new words every day.

"There is no 'point', per se." I respond, smoothing her hair. "You decide _why_ you live. You decide for what reason you work, why you fight. The Maker is just a constant, soothing presence who supports you no matter how badly it goes. There's really no ultimate goal he has set for you. He just wants you to live."

This would be easier to say if I actually believed in the Maker. I have to expend extra energy with words that only _imply_ belief.

"We could never 'ave children, you know." She whispers. "Always tried but we had no luck. I wanted…and now, I got nothin' and nobody."

"Why not get a kid now?" I ask, and smile when she gives me a look like I'm crazy. "You could adopt, couldn't you?"

She scoffs. "Only places where you can take kids are in cities. And they don' like lettin' anyone leave with their playthings." She says it seriously. Bitterly. But like…it's to be expected. Like there's nothing to be done for it.

Of course, it makes sense. Elves are sure to become servants and orphans will need work even earlier than most to support themselves because they don't have parents…it's a little horrific to follow that line of thought, so I'm gonna stop now.

Maybe if I offer King Alistair something for giving me the kids…but where would I put them?

"I have some orphaned children at Haven. We could give you one of those if you wanted." They're not mine to keep, as it were.

She sat up suddenly and stared at me with wild eyes. "You…why?" Her face screws up in confusion. "Why would you do that?"

"I believe you have a lot of love in your heart." I respond, taking one of her hands and squeezing. "You feel your husband's passing so deeply because you loved him deeply. You'd probably be a good mother. The kids need parents." I shrug. "Why wouldn't I?"

I don't really know her, but I'm sure I could have a Scout watch out for the kid till it's determined whether or not she's suitable. If she is, new home for a child. If she's not- well. We'll figure that out if it comes to it.

She dips her head and blinks tears out of her eyes. "What are they like?" She asks, quietly. "The orphans?"

"Some are Human, some are Elven." I haven't run across an unattached Dwarven or Qunari child yet. "There are some little girls and little boys. One in particular, I think you'd like…" I begin telling her about the small child I first encountered in the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

Her name is Asha. I could say her name is unimaginative, like Solas would- or just admire the sound of it on my tongue as it rolls there and that is what I choose to do. "In Elvhen it means 'Woman' but any Human would probably attribute Asha to Ashes, and associate it with Andraste somehow. I think." I purse my lips and tilt my head. "Anyway, she's very cuddly."

"Cuddly?" She asks with a small smile, wiping away tears. "Wha'd'you mean?"

"She curls up next to my knee when I'm working on paperwork sometimes…or she used to before I got hurt and this…" I hold up my hand and trace my palm. The glow is hidden. "I got a little too busy and was in too much pain for cuddles and I think she really needs them."

"I'd like to see her." Maura says, brushing her hair off her face. Behind one of her ears. "Just to see if maybe…maybe you're here for a reason." She rasps.

And then the mark decides to burn through my glove in a sudden flash of green and Maura is nearly leaping through the wall behind her to get away from it.

"What the hell!?" I leap back away from her and take off my glove. "What-"

A rift, I can feel it. Tearing itself open right outside the farmhouse. It's like…

The whole world disappears around me as I walk toward the door, a whisper tracing lines across my skin not quite in words.

**Here. Come Here.**

An urge. A strong urge to _go outside_.

 

* * *

 

Solas POV

The smite was painful enough on its own. Less so now that I've been exposed to it, now that I've examined what it does to my body.

Still, painful. Excruciatingly so.

The beating that followed as they questioned me and shoved me into a tree by my throat, even more so.

I told them I was not an apostate, but with the Inquisition in the area. I told them Lady Seeker Cassandra could verify.

It was a surprise to see the words work. Most Templars in the area don't stop to ask who a mage is or whom they… 'belong' to. Though I see the respect a Seeker's name holds.

' _What are ya doin' out here alone then, Mage?'_ Spat like a curse by a rather large specimen among their number.

Three of them. One larger than the two others, obviously in charge. Sheep following a shepherd, then.

I'd answered that I was on an errand and that the Seeker held means with which to track me. They obviously believed I'd meant a phylactery. I allowed them to believe it.

They marched me down the road past the farm, and I hoped that Nik would stay within the house. _'Don't come out, don't investigate. Don't hear the clanking of their boots on the earth.'_ She is naive, in all the ways that could get her killed for acting to help me while Templars hold me prisoner.

And I do not doubt she would try.

I stumble when a rift suddenly rips itself open before the farmhouse. _'Fenhedis!'_

One of the Templars ties me to a tree with my arms wrenched roughly behind me as the other two rush to engage the demons being spat out into the world. It is always something different to feel a rift. Whether it has just sprung into being or has been open since the Breach-- they always fill me with something like nostalgia. A small pocket to the other side. A trip I would not survive without the Anchor. I can feel the shifting reality within. I can breathe it in when the rifts are closed. Taking more and more power from the Fade into myself.

The one who tied my bonds, now rushes to follow after them, leaving me alone to watch the ensuing battle.

Nik appears in the doorway of the house, eyes on the rift. Glittering, far away eyes that I do not like.

' _I cannot do anything until she seals the rift.'_ Once I've absorbed the ambient energy that the rift has left behind, I will be able to move without pain- but I will not be able to stabilize her with anything but words.

Words seem to work more effectively regardless, but the state I am in she may simply need to fuss over me to become calm. Even just thinking of it is embarrassing. _'For her benefit, for the mark- you can deal with coddling. It isn't going to kill you.'_

She walks amidst the Templars with the same expression on her face, as if she doesn't see them.

They call out to her to get back inside, to get back and Maura watches from the doorway now. Her eyes are wide, watching Nik with something I know would make her uncomfortable if she were to see it. The open awe, the blind _worship_ in her eyes…

"What's she-" One of the smaller Templars is pulled back by the larger one. "Captain?"

"Don't you see the light in her hand, boy?" The man barks. "We've heard of this woman."

They all watch, not moving to intercept the demons any longer. I lean forward in my bonds. "Are you daft!? _Protect_ her!"

That seems to move them, though they glower at me before acting. The smaller getting between she and the demons while the larger Templar prowls the edges of the clearing. Watching her with narrowed eyes.

' _If only I could make a flame- anything!'_ Yanking at my restraints only gains me chafed wrists. _'If they let her die, I will lose the only means I have to-'_

She lifts her hand after a long moment of contemplating the rift, silently and with her head tilted. Almost as if she were listening to it.

The mark connects to the rift and the demons are pulled…gently…toward it. Ushered, plucked, pulled- but not roughly. Pulled through just as the rift seals and the mark goes dormant once more.

Her head drops and she rubs her face with her hands.

"Nik." I call out. "How do you feel?" I care not if she notices my predicament, the Seeker will likely free me from their custody. As much as it chafes to be under someone's thumb, I can bare it for the walk back to camp if I must.

I care that the Mark is stable. I cannot feel it with my magic deadened like this. Perhaps if we were closer, if I had hold of her hand, but from here?

She blinks and glances up, a delayed reaction to my question as she glances around and spots me tied to the tree. She frowns and turns toward me. "Solas? What…"

"You know this apostate, Lady Herald?" The 'Captain' asks.

She turns her head to look at him and her eyes go to the flaming sword of mercy on his chest plate. "Ah. Templars." She says, conversationally. "Why do you have my Arcane Advisor trussed to a tree?"

I blink. There is a forced air in the way she holds her shoulders relaxed. In the set of her jaw, the tilt of her body. She is hiding her expression behind wide-eyed innocence.

"We found this apostate out walkin' around without an escort. Said he was minded by a Seeker. We were goin' to confirm. Is he yours, then?" One of the smaller asks.

She inhales, slowly and with control. No anger crosses her face, but her fingers twitch as if she wishes to curl them into fists. "Yes. All the people of the Inquisition are _mine_." She answers, surprisingly. "He's part of my inner circle. I would like him _returned_ , if only to look at my mark."

"He tends to your magical wound, then." The other speaks for the first time since he's come upon me with the others. "Is it possible to…heal it completely?"

"I'm afraid not." She responds, slowly walking toward me. "Did you smite him?"

"Had to. Dangerous to walk around with a mage without it." The Captain confirms.

I am the only one who can see her expression now. She allows it to twist. I cannot decipher into _what_. There is fury and sorrow and something deeper, but it escapes me. With the Fade wrapped around me and flowing within me, perhaps I would be able to see it.

She kneels next to the tree and begins to pick at the bindings around my wrists, pausing when I hiss in pain. "I will walk with you to the camp." She turns and shouts over her shoulder. "Maura, you want to come back to Haven? I can introduce you, then."

The elven woman starts and sends the Templars a withering look as she walks across the plain toward Nik and myself. "Y-…yes, Lady Herald."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going a little crazy with the Solas POVs...there'll be more soon. Varric I can guarantee. Maybe Cassandra, maybe Josephine. Leliana if I can get into her headspace...not sure.


	25. Varric POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See? I promised and I deliver. Varric POV.

"That was weird." I chuckle and lean against the tent pole. The wood is rough and splintery. Low on supplies and resources means you take what you can get. "Hand alright?"

"I am fine, Varric." The Seeker is still snarling a little, though. "The _nerve_ …" She mutters. "Has someone been sent to fetch Nik and Solas?"

"I don't really think either of 'em would want to go with anyone they didn't know out here." I respond with a flourish to my hand gestures. "I figured we could just go pick 'em up when you were tended to. Or I could, with some Scouts." The canvas of the tent itself is patched in so many places it might as well just be a quilt.

She sighs. "It would be too much to ask that you not mention this to anyone, wouldn't it?"

"Seems to me you should be proud that you caught on to a dereliction of duty like that." I tilt my head and squint, searching her face. "Or is it what he said that bothered you?"

The asshole had a lot to say about women being in charge- or well, about how they _shouldn't_ be. Told the Seeker to go back to her castle in Nevarra, get married and have lots of babies- and leave the fighting to the men.

"I know he is an idiot." She snarls, taking her hand when the healer is done and turning it over to inspect it. Her eyes darken and soften with some sad, muted emotion. "I have heard it before."

I snort. "They were idiots too." I grin at her narrow-eyed glance and shrug my shoulders, pushing off the pole. It creaks "I used to know a woman named Aveline. Strongest, toughest person I've ever met." I chuckle. "I think she might have foregone the face and landed an uppercut right to his happy place, though."

The Seeker almost _squeaks_. Like a disgusted noise mixed with an almost-laugh. "Varric!"

"It's cute you can be scandalized, Seeker." I quip, turning and leaving the tent- then pausing at what I see. "Uhhh….Seeker?"

"What? What is it?" She jolts off of the cot and the Healer nearly gets bowled over as she shoots past him. "What…"

"I don't know what's going on, but it's bound to be a good story." I say.

Watching as the Seeker approaches the little procession, I slowly make my way up to them, behind her.

Chuckles has his wrists tied behind his back, looking stormy and glancing at the Herald every time she so much as stumbles. He's bruised and scuffed and bleeding in a couple places. Nik looks exhausted and keeps glancing back at him when one of the Templars shoves or otherwise touches him.

And then there's the elven woman from yesterday, standing tall and proud next to the Herald, looking scared but angry. Shit.

The people around, scouts and soldiers and even servants, have stopped to watch.

"Nik? What is going on?" The Seeker walks up to them and gives the Templars the most dangerous look I've ever seen on her face. Other than that time she stormed into Haven after the explosion at the Temple, anyway.

"These gentlemen need to be briefed on our positions." The Herald is stone-faced but I can see the anger shaking her whole body. "They may be looking to come back to Haven to go through processing."

My eyebrows go up. _'Processing. Neutral enough word.'_ In Haven we use 'initiating' for soldiers and save 'processing' for prisoners.

She just asked the Seeker to put them under arrest without saying the words. Does the Seeker get it?

I see the clenched jaw and the flat eyes and resolve, _'Yeah, she gets it.'_

"Come with me then, and we will put you on a wagon." The Seeker instructs and the Templars follow her.

All three of 'em complaining about having to walk all night and morning.

As soon as they're out of sight, she turns around. Walks behind Chuckles and plucks at the rope holding his wrists together. Looks like she might have tied it herself, with how easily he slips out of it. He still flinches and hisses as he does though.

"My apologies for the trouble, Herald." He says, pulling his hands in front of him and grimacing at the already scabbing wounds. "I didn't see them coming."

She doesn't respond to him. She just walks back around in front of him after rummaging in his pack and she has a poultice jar in her hand.

He opens his mouth again.

"Don't. Apologize. To me." She grits it through her teeth as she opens the jar and starts treating the wounds, sitting the jar in his free hand for holding.

She seems like she's holding back tears as much as angry screaming.

"I should have sensed them." His ears have flattened back on his head, like she's yelling at him or something.

She jerks, tensing up and then relaxing, taking deep breaths before turning her attention to his other wrist. "It doesn't matter. Cassandra will take care of it." Less angry, more sad this time.

I think he gets it, because he stops looking like a chastised puppy dog. He only ever looks like that around her, it's weird. He usually snaps back, but looking at the way she's about to fall apart I don't doubt that's why he's so soft with her.

I take a breath and sigh heavily. "What happened, exactly?"

She jerks a little in surprise, but doesn't turn to look at me. "They snuck up on Solas, smited him, tied him up, beat him-" Her words are gaining volume.

I sidle up next to her as she speaks and pat her back. She goes still and silent.

"The Herald talked them into escorting us back to camp, and even offered to tie my bonds herself." Chuckles takes over. "She implied they would be welcomed as allies or friends to the Inquisition without saying so at all."

There's a lot of amusement in there, I can taste it. And something else. "Hell of a con there, Schemer."

It just popped out. And looking at the shock on her face and seeing it melt into something pouty, I can't say I could've made a better choice.

"Schemer? Why Schemer? I don't _scheme_." She juts her bottom lip out as she dabs more poultice onto Chuckle's skin when it's absorbed.

"Says you." I quip. "That was a good one."

She blinks and looks confused. "What was?"

"Oh, that's good. I can't even _tell_ if that's one or not." I chuckle. It really is impossible to tell if she's just that way, or if she means to do it. Either way, yeah. The name fits.


	26. Chapter 26

He looked so uncomfortable.

It was adorable.

I think he can tell I'm amused because he keeps sending me flat looks as I bustle around camp with a small smile on my face.

It was a little surprising when I saw them and realized what had happened.

Solas decided to give Maura the ring he apparently forgot he had, and she was so overcome with gratitude she _hugged_ him. Cried a little, too, but kept whispering thank you's as she pulled away and put the ring over the finger with her own. It was too big for her, but she curled her fist to keep it in place.

While she was hugging him, he looked shocked and uncomfortable but he put a hand on her back, near her shoulder blades and gave her nothing but serenity when she could see his face.

' _The Herald asked me to retrieve it, no thanks are necessary.'_

That thought sours my mood.

' _He was only out there because of me. I'm such a stubborn ass.'_ I could have waited till Cassadra had come back and we could've just salvaged the ring _then_. I was just so angry and sorry for Maura and afraid that someone would get to the ring before we could…and then I was annoyed at him for questioning my intentions and trying to keep me from doing something I saw as perfectly safe.

I walk back to the log in front of the fire where Solas and Varric are perched and put down the small bowl of gathered cloth and string I'd been able to find. I'm making more bandages and using the string for _something_ , just don't know what yet.

"You look all shivery again, Schemer." Varric points out. "That cold fury thing is unsettling."

"S-sorry." He's not wrong, I'm shivering so hard I just stuttered. I clear my throat and make a conscious effort to get that under control. Breathe. "I'm just…" I glance at Solas and then away. "I'm sorry."

"Is that directed at me?" The tone is almost amused, halfway confused. "For what?"

"I wasn't thinking and I forced you to go out there at night when it wasn't safe and…" I stop to get my shaking under control. "I'm sorry."

"Pain is easily forgotten." Solas says, almost flatly.

"Humiliation isn't." I respond.

And then there's silence and I want to smack myself because that was very obviously the _wrong_ thing to say-

"I am fine." He's moved closer on the log, his side almost touching mine. I can feel him, spatial awareness telling me he's hunched over like I am. Probably trying to be level with my face in case I look at him. But nope, I'm focused on my knees. "Nik." There's something in his voice I can't really decipher. It's an emotion I've never heard or seen from him before.

I know because I glance up and his expression is alien to me too. Eyes so intense that I _can't_ look away.

He didn't let me see to any of the wounds the Templars gave him besides his wrists. He gave me a very polite 'no, I can see to it myself, thank you' response and retreated into his tent for the rest of the day.

It's evening, and he seems to have recovered his magic, because the bruises and cuts are mostly gone now. And the firelight almost hides the way the encroaching darkness makes his eyes kind of…glimmer.

"It's too bad that mark didn't give you magical powers." Varric chuckles, breaking the weird tension created by the moment. "Throwing around fireballs might've come in handy against those Templars if they'd have gotten all-"

' _Fireballs_. _'_ I muse. For just a second, before my arm is jerking up without my direction and throwing fire at the firepit.

I'm ejected from my seat on the log and thrown backwards- knocking over so many tents and even dragging one with me right off the top of someone who screams when it happens.

There are a lot of screams as I lie on the ground, dazed.

I realize a barrier is around me as I blink away the fuzziness from my eyes. It ripples with movement until I can see Solas kneeling next to me with Varric standing nearby, shouting something. Solas looks kind of sick.

Ah, I can hear some of the words. "Calm down, it's not her fault." I think.

"What is going on here?" Cassandra is stomping down the incline toward us and Solas's barrier, hand on her sword until she sees me lying on the ground.

She rushes the rest of the way to me and I'm struck, suddenly.

With the humor in the situation.

So I laugh. I laugh under my breath at first, and then it becomes louder and shakes my body a bit. Not full-on gasping laughter or loud enough to echo around the suddenly silent clearing or anything.

"Nik? What…what is wrong with her?" Cassandra sounds a bit scared.

I turn my head and giggle at her. "The Herald…of Andraste…blew herself up!"

Varric sighs. "It'd be funnier if the whole camp wasn't pointing their swords and bows at us, Schemer."

He's right, they are. I try to stifle my giggles, but it's difficult.

Ultimately it's determined that the Mark was just responding to my thoughts, apparently to a call for a spell like regular magic- I still don't understand that, but whatever.

Solas seemed pretty unnerved and also fascinated by it. Varric was just amused after the initial panic wore off.

And Cassandra wasn't able to calm the masses all on her own…so I suggested a solution.

"I could wear the magic-dampeners on your belt." I say to Cassandra.

The clearing goes quiet again and Solas's head whips around so fast I'm surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Absolutely not!"

"I've worn something similar before, it won't interfere with the mark in any explodey ways." I remind him with a smile and a look in my eyes.

' _Please, just go with it._ '

His lips thin out into a line, but he says nothing further.

"You sure you wanna do that, Schemer?" Varric is standing to my right, Bianca ready in his hands. "I mean, doesn't being without magic…hurt mages? You kinda are one now, aren't you?"

"Not exactly. I think it's just the mark that does the magic, not me." I shrug and roll my eyes. "Well obviously I fucked up and asked for a spell I didn't mean to, but I think the magic itself is from…the mark. And it's connection to the Veil, whatever that might be."

He nods and Cassandra kneels before me with the cuffs in her hands. She looks really upset. "I am sorry this is necessary."

I grin. "Would you have said that to a mage a month ago?"

She looks at me with wide eyes for a moment. "I…no. I don't believe so."

"Then you're learning. So it's okay." I hold out my wrists and hear a huff of laughter from behind me. Breathy and familiar. "Don't laugh at me, Solas."

"I was not." He denies, easily. "Everything seems to be a lesson to you."

"Are you saying you don't like that?" I turn my head and grin at him over my shoulder.

His lips part and there's a little surprise as pink appears across his cheeks and inches up his ears. "I never said that, no." He says, recovering enough to hide his expression but not the blush I can still track with my eyes.

"Here." Cassandra locks the shackles around my marked arm, both right next to each other.

"Ooh! I didn't even notice it was trying to spread that far." The slide of the cuffs up to my wrist halted the tendril's movements up toward my elbow and smacked 'em back into my palm. "These might actually be handy to have in case I have an anxiety attack."

Seeing the magic in the mark contained and how easily I offered and took the shackles- everyone seems to calm down. Swords are put away, bows are unstrung and a lot of people even take off their shields. Though they leave them nearby enough to grab at a moment's notice.


	27. Chapter 27

Solas sat in my tent with me, with a barrier bubble inside.

"I still don't get why this is here." I tap the edge of the bubble and it ripples. I gasp. "Like an actual bubble but made out of tougher stuff." I grin at him. "Somebody hitting this thing would get thrown on their ass by twice the force they put into it, right?"

He's watching me with that narrow-eyed look again, but there's a slight uptick to the side of his mouth now. "You deduced that simply by touching it?"

"Well I saw you working with different kinds in battle since we left Haven and when we were walking to the Rift." I begin. "One was brittle and hard and when the bandits hit it, they fell over- like they were expecting something different and you caught them with a fire spell before they could attack again."

He smirks, just a little. Probably preening, the jackass. "If you know how to properly use magic, there is no one way to do something. If there were, it would be far too easy to counter it."

"But then you could counter the counter with something else and on and on into oblivion." I feel so energized, I can't explain it. "I…is the magic making me happy?" It suddenly occurs to me that Lyrium is a drug and creates magical abilities, sort of. Which means… "Am I high?"

He chuckles and there's a small snort on the end, though he covers his mouth with his hand and closes his eyes tightly to try and hold it in.

"This isn't funny!" I whine. "I'm a lightweight with anything alcoholic or pharmaceutical, remember? What if I start running around screaming at the top of my lungs or streak through camp?"

His eyes open at that, to look me dead in the eye and then he curls down further into his lap and shakes with the new laughter being held back by his hand.

I shove his shoulder. "Quit it!"

I don't even think about the fact that I've just touched him until I've already done it and the moment has passed- when we're both out of laughter and I realize he didn't tense or flinch this time.

I bite my lip. "You seemed uncomfortable when Maura hugged you." Damn it, no filter. I always chafe when I don't know my boundaries. Have to talk about it. So this would've happened sooner or later.

He makes a face. "I don't truly know the woman, but she seems agreeable enough. I didn't wish to cause her undue pain or embarrassment by pulling away before she was through…"

"Processing?" I interject with a smile.

He narrows his eyes again, though they crinkle in the happy way rather than the suspicious way now. "Those Templars will not know what is going on until they are brought back to Haven."

"Nope." I respond. "I want them _locked up_." I shake my head and huff. "Mages, non-mages…they're all in danger from people like that. People who assume a certain kind of person needs to be…" I trail off and glance up at him with my head bowed. "I-"

"If this is another apology, don't." He sighs when I flinch. "Nik, it wasn't your doing. Yes, you could have waited for Cassandra to get back and we may have been safe…but what if they'd decided to take Maura's home for a camp that night?"

I jerk my head up.

He nods. "They could have sensed a mage in that farmhouse and…burned us out." He gives me a look.

I remember the burning houses on the way to the Crossroads and even near the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Some caused by the explosion, some by Templars chasing after Mages.

I shudder. "But they could've killed you." What would I have done? With the Mark, with myself, how would I have…done anything?

Not to mention how soul-crushing the grieving would have been. Not only thinking it my fault but also remembering how the last thing I'd said to him was basically an ultimatum.

"Many things could kill me. Should I hide?" He asks, a slight smile on his face. Eyes serious, though.

"I just have to…be more aware." I hunch my shoulders. "Sometimes my emotions get so loud I can't hear my logic as well, or I ignore it. I just need a reminder…could you remind me?" I ask, glancing up at him.

He tilts his head. "Remind you?"

"When it seems like I'm being overemotional, just say something about how I'm…" I search for the words that won't trigger me. "Like if my jaw is tight like I'm gritting my teeth or I seem to be trying not to clench my hands into fists- you can just mention it to me when my emotion is interfering with my logic. I'll _try_ to snap out of it, at least."

He seems a little surprised. "Are you asking me to question your judgment?"

"No." I laugh. "Just…to question me when I'm clearly upset. To remind me that there's always more options than anyone wants to see right at that moment."

"I see." He dips his head and flicks his eyes up to glance at mine. He's been trying to avoid looking me dead-on in the eyes when he's not questioning me or something. I appreciate it. "I will try, then."

"I got off-track." I mutter as I realize what just happened. "The touching. Do you mind it?"

More surprise, though it's more muted now. Like he half-expected the question. "I…have been alone. For a very long time."

"Figured that." I bite my lip and play with the cuffs on my left wrist. "I'm a touchy person, but if you say not to- I'll remember. Even if only subconsciously. I won't touch you at all anymore, if you say so."

"I don't doubt that." He mutters. "But I…don't mind. You don't often touch me as it is. I will…get used to it." He's looking away at one of the tent poles and his ears are slightly pinker than before.

' _He really is touch-starved, huh? The internet was right.'_

So I grin. "Okay. _Ma serannas, Hahren._ "

His ears twitch, almost unnoticeable but definitely there enough for me to notice. His lips curl at the ends, almost a smile but forced back down. "That reminds me. _On dhea. On nydha. On dhea him. On dhea lam._ "

I sigh. "Good morning, good night, good day, good evening." I grin. "What do I win?"

He laughs. But it dries up pretty quickly, when I reach up to brush some hair behind my ear and he catches sight of the cuffs again. "Why did you ask for the cuffs?" He just looks really upset now.

"Because they were scared." I shrug. "It doesn't hurt me at all to do it and it makes Cassandra's job easier as well as making everyone else feel safer."

He purses his lips just a little. "And you consented to this before anyone could ask so you would seem non-threatening."

"Good." I grin. "I was beginning to think I wasn't sending the messages I'd meant to."

"Messages?" He asks, eyes sharp once again.

"Yeah. Actions, words- they're communication. Ways of telling people how you feel." I think for a moment. "By offering to cut off the source of my magic and therefore make myself powerless, I told the people 'I don't want to hurt you'. And by offering before anyone could suggest it, I tell them 'Your safety is more important to me than my own ego'." I shrug and snort. "Something like that. My brain is all over the place right now."

"Your brain?" He's smiling again, that's good.

"When I'm on something or drunk, my brain…I get easily distracted and different thoughts from different subjects just pops up in my head." I open my mouth and pause when the barrier ripples.

It expands inside and conforms to the shape of a hand with a bowl. "Some dinner for Schemer. Checked it myself."

"Thank you, Master Tethras." Solas reaches out and takes the bowl, the bubble popping out around the bowl on the other side almost comically.

I giggle at the motion and watch the vibrations around the barrier above and beside me. "You have to show me how to do that one."

"I would be glad to." He smiles as he hands me my bowl. "But perhaps when you are not quite so… 'happy'"

I sock him in the arm for that one.


	28. Chapter 28

Blackwall always seems closed-off or gruff if you don't talk to him much.

But once you start joking with him, he jokes back and it's _delightful_.

"It must've taken you forever to grow that beard." I grin and poke him in the side once. "Did you do it for a girl, because you like it or for practical reasons?"

"We're asking about hair now?" He has the weirdest/coolest smirk. It curls his mustache at the side into an actual _curl_ and it looks _awesome_. "Alright. I never really thought about it. Keeping it trim as it is is easier than shaving every day. What about your hair? Grow it that long for any particular reason?"

I laugh. "Where I come from it's not that weird to have long hair, even when you're in combat. You just put it up and out of the way…which I can't do because I have no idea how to work a leather tie." I pout.

"I could…do your hair, if you like." Cassandra offers from just ahead of us. "Braid it for you."

"I'd love that!" I grin brightly. "And then later you've gotta let me play with yours!"

She turns a little pink but turns to look ahead before I can really see it. "Before bed, perhaps."

' _Cassandra needs girl-bonding with someone who won't be surprised by her girly side and judge her.'_

"Seeker." An icy cold voice that I recognize.

Cassandra and I halt, and Blackwall with us, looking confused.

A soul-crushing tone of voice. "I was not told you were taking Nik with you."

Cassandra actually looks at a loss for a moment. "I apologize, Solas. I should have informed you." But she stands tall, even still. "I will remember in the future."

"It isn't you who apparently snuck out of camp to avoid me." He walks over from near the treeline where he was obviously watching and waiting for us. Possibly even ready for them to come running in with me limp and sparking or something. Which makes me feel _bad_.

"I just wanted to go with Cassandra to meet Blackwall." I respond, hating that I'm feeling guilty and chastised like a child. "It was a short walk, I'm fine."

"You were gone for two hours." He says, waspish and short. "For all I knew, the mark detonated- taking the Seeker and possibly the Gray Warden with you."

I hunch a little at that, as I hadn't even considered that possibility. "I'm sorry." I mutter.

"See that you remember to take me with you, next time. Or inform me you are leaving with the Seeker, at the very least." He still sounds pissed off, but I think he's lost steam. What with me apologizing and all. He probably expected a fight. I might have put one up if I didn't feel so guilty.

"Schemer! Bring us a new friend?" Varric saunters up from camp to defuse the situation, bless his golden heart. "Varric Tethras. Good to meet you."

"Blackwall. Likewise." He smiles, but it's more unsure now. When he glances at Solas, I can see a little wariness there.

"Solas won't bite, I promise." I smile when he stares at me for a moment. "He looks feral, but he's pretty nice when he's not mad at me."

A growly sigh from Solas and I turn around to see him walking back into camp. Still stiff-backed.

"Ouch." Varric says. "Did you mean to do that?" He looks mildly disapproving.

I blink. "Do what?" My brows furrow. "Did I do something? I did something. What did I do?" I think I forgot to breathe between words.

"Whoa, whoa." He puts his hands up, looking surprised. "You actually didn't know you did that one, huh."

"I'm panicking here, Varric." I beg him. "Did I say something offensive? Help me!" I hiss that last part, as Solas has stopped in camp and is looking back at us with a focused expression.

That's when the mark chooses to go completely nuts, because why not. Just right in the middle of camp where a bunch of people are watching.

Shining green light, an intense pain- and I think maybe I lost some time again.

Cassie has the cuffs around my wrist. "Breathe, Nik. Remember to breathe." We're both on our knees.

It hurts less now, and Solas is there holding my marked hand- muttering in Elvhen. Eyes with that smoky glow that appears when he casts. Gray…blue…so _pretty_.

He glances up, startled.

I think I said that out loud. So I blink and try not to blush as hard as I feel like I'm going to. Damn it. "Your magic is like smoke."

He looks less alarmed now, and a small smile appears on his face. " _Ma serannas_."

I laugh, feeling a little drunk. "I don't know the thing for that, yet."

"I doubt telling you now would have much effect. You would forget in moments." He sighs and stands up, pulling me with him. "I need to put up a barrier and regulate the energy through her until she's gotten used to it. I'd hoped to wait until we made it back to Haven…"

"No one will bother you, Solas." Cassandra promises. "Her tent has everything she needs. She could use the rest, I think."

"I agree." He nods and tugs me along by my marked hand until we're in my tent. They're so much taller than I thought they'd be.

Looking back, they're all at least as tall as a Qunari Inquisitor, I think…

"Where is your mind, Nik?" Solas is there in front of me. Watching me with curious eyes. "What are you thinking?"

"The tent is big." I say, simply. Then. "Do you think it's big because they want to accommodate the Qunari or because humans always make nicer things for themselves than for anyone else?"

He sighs. "This is always on your mind, isn't it?"

I shrug. "Well. Everyone else always makes it such a big deal it's kind of impossible not to acknowledge that it's there…though, I don't think race really exists."

He tugs me down with him and sits on my bedroll while I settle on Cassandras. "Oh? What do you mean?"

"There are people with the same…physical stuff as you." DNA wouldn't be a thing here. "And there are people with different physical stuff. You're connected, but not the same. People from Antiva are connected no matter what race they are, by being Antivan." I smile, thinking of golden hair and black face tattoos.

"People of Ferelden are all exactly that. Ferelden. There are subcultures, of course. Nobles, common people, city elves, dalish elves, surface dwarves, Orzammar dwarves." I list them off as he takes off the cuffs and presses his thumbs into the mark. "Different because of where they're from and who they are, not the stuff."

He glances up at me and searches my eyes. "I see."

"And variety is the spice of life." I grin. "Why does everybody think mixing bloodlines is bad, anyway?" I ask with curiosity. "Obviously nature intended for it, or it wouldn't be there."

He tilts his head, almost losing all interest in the mark, I think. "What wouldn't?"

"Differences." I reply. "We're meant to all come together in one big family of people someday, I believe. Otherwise we'd just in-breed till everyone was mentally ill or deformed in some way." I make a face. "We're supposed to, it's in the genes. Or whatever. That's why exoticism is a thing." I roll my eyes. "Even though I'll still say there's no reason to be so skeevy about it."

He's curled over his lap, shaking again.

"Shut up!" I whine.

"I said nothing." He coughs into his fist and glances up at me with a smirk.

"Shut up your smirky face." I pout and cross my arms. "It's the truth. It's scientific!"

He snorts.

"You're an ass, Solas." I smack his shoulder. And then I pull back and look at my lap. "Did I say a wrong thing? Varric said I said something and I didn't know what it was."

The mark sparks.

He reaches out and grasps it, then goes still. "You called me feral." He's stiff again.

I blink and stare at him for a moment before smacking myself in the forehead. "That doesn't mean the same thing where I come from. It does, I mean-" I cut myself off and huff. Blowing hair off my forehead. "Where I come from, we compare ourselves to animals and inanimate objects. Like the saying, the pot calling the kettle black?"

He tilts his head again and squints at me. "I've never heard that."

"Well the pot and kettle are both black because they're on a fire." I explain. "So if you're a pot, calling a kettle black- you're also…the thing you're saying they are."

A look of understanding crosses his face. "So what does feral mean where you come from?"

"It means the same thing, but where I come from-" I falter, looking for a better word. "I didn't use an animal word for you because you're Elvhen, I just...I'm sorry." People say things like 'Feral' to illustrate unfriendliness so far as I can remember, but recalling the actual meaning of the word, I realize how wrong it was to use it- with anyone.

He relaxes a little, but not by much. "I see."

"I'll try to remember not to do that. Remind me?" I ask, perking a little. "I might not remember in the morning, but you can tell me."

He huffs and there's amusement but also something awfully confusing. "I will remind you every time I see fit to, yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are bound to be things a Modern Girl would say that would come off as offensive that she doesn't know about until she thinks about it- or is told. I wanted to illustrate that. Nik is fairly naive, even if she's kinda manipulative and really smart about a lot of things- she still has a lot to learn.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: Also, I wanna make a note here that Nik is not talking about Assimilation. She's talking about marrying someone from a different race or culture. Her beliefs are not about casting off who you are or where you came from, but instead sharing them with the person you love. I don't want anyone to think that Nik wants everyone to be the same, she absolutely does not.
> 
> 2nd EDIT: Also, when I say 'sharing' your culture I do not mean the usual definition of sharing your culture. I mean like, talking about it, accepting each other come from different backgrounds and all around just being tolerant of one another.


	29. Solas POV

Blackwall is carrying her only because he can do so without suspicion.

I would rather monitor the mark directly through contact, but mages are not supposed to be stronger than most warriors. I must hide what abilities I have that they do not recognize in mages. I am already strange enough to them.

We could not take any horses back to Haven for many reasons. They were needed elsewhere until Dennet agreed to give the Inquisition more to use, for one. It would make us more of a target, for another. Lastly because we are traveling through the night and the horses the Inquisition has access to are not accustomed to the dark.

' _I should have refused. She would not have left without me.'_ She is reckless, but not stupid. Going into combat or near someplace where there may be magical disturbances without me to watch the mark would be the height of stupidity and she knows it. _'I have to do something. What if the wolves attack the people again? What if they kill them?'_ I caved to logic and compassion. My two greatest strengths turned into weaknesses and used against me.

When she insisted we see to the issue with the wolves near Dennet's farm, I assumed she meant the Inquisition. When she asked if Master Tethras, Blackwall and Myself would be willing to handle it with her- I wished to get Cassandra. To forbid the crazy idea.

' _I'm not going to fight.'_ She'd said, wrinkling her nose and looking amused. _'I'm useless in a fight. But I can come up with a plan.'_

And so she did. Agreed to stay outside of the wolf den and settled atop a slippery boulder after being hoisted up by Blackwall.

She didn't stay there. Of course not.

She came running when she heard Blackwall shouting something about teeth in his arm. A wolf had grabbed onto his sword arm and worried at it.

I was about to use lightning to detach the unfortunate wolf, when she appeared at the opening to the den.

Her expression was mixed. Torn between determination, fear and something sorrowful. And then the Terror teleported and I could not get up a barrier to keep it out fast enough.

We all three watched, with the wolves who were suddenly still and attentive- as it grasped her around the throat. And then it was bright. Green and gold and the rush of magic over my skin…

I lost myself for a moment, reveling in it and shrinking away from it at once. It wasn't a harsh magic, but it was too raw, too powerful.

And then the light was gone, the wolves were shaking shadows off their fur and fire out of their eyes and…the demon…

"How did she do that?" Master Tethras walks beside me, and I am surprised he has kept quiet so long. "It was a demon, then it wasn't…is that another thing her mark can do? Is it supposed to?"

I share his confusion. "The mark is only supposed to connect to the rifts. Connecting to the Fade itself was a surprise. This…I do not know what this was. As I said, some form of purification. Taking away…what the rift did to it. The one it came through." There were rifts nearby, it could have been any of them. We closed them all on our sweep of the area with the Seeker.

"And she's not Possessed?" The Seeker is very wary, and also very angry- staring at Nik in Blackwall's arms with confused emotions crossing her face. "You said the spirit entered her body."

"It entered the _mark_." I repeat myself. How many times, I do not know, but I am irritated. "When she fell asleep, the mark connected to the Fade through her dreams, and now the spirit is back where it belongs."

They seem to need constant assurance of that.

"What did it say it was? Excitement?" Blackwall questions, glancing back at me. "So if it did possess her, would she wake up breathing fire or something? That'd be bad for me."

I glare at him and curl my fingers tighter around my staff. Possession is a nightmare for these shadow people. It takes friends and turns them into monsters. They do not know their 'Abominations' are closer to the People than they are.

Spirits alone are closer to being like the People than they are.

"What? It would." Blackwall smirks with a curl to his mustache. "If you say she's fine, she probably is. Just trying to cut the tension."

"Chuckles is more the intellectual joker, Hero." Master Tethras has chosen the newcomers name after hearing a few tales of his exploits. It isn't surprising in the least. Gray Wardens are glorified. "I wouldn't prod him about Schemer though, he gets all overprotective."

I scoff. "She is the only one in Thedas with the power to close the rifts. I am not being _nearly_ protective _enough_."

Master Tethras laughs. "I kinda figured you wanted to wrap her up in something and carry her around."

I can see where this is going. "If it kept her alive long enough to seal the Breach, yes." I turn my attention ahead. "She is necessary for all our survival…she did a very reckless thing. Running into a wolf den to save warriors. With what?"

"Well yeah, that was kinda dumb." Master Tethras agrees, surprisingly. "But she just seems like that type. Hawke was the same way when we first met. Throwing himself into danger at every opportunity just because someone needed him."

"He stopped behaving that way at some point, I gather." Master Tethras's stories are always entertaining at the least. "What happened?"

"He met the rest of the Kirkwall gang." Master Tethras responds. "After meeting Daisy, Blondie and the Elf…he knew if he up and disappeared there'd be almost no one to watch out for them. Except each other. And while they _are_ all friends…" He shakes his head. "Blondie and the Elf would tear each other apart without someone in the middle and none of the rest of us could be sympathetic to mages while also condemning magical abuse of power the way Hawke could."

"Hawke condemned magical power abuse? How?" I have never heard this before. All I have heard about Hawke is that he is a mage, has a mage lover and sympathizes with the rebels.

"Hawke is against anything that can be used to hurt someone else." Master Tethras crosses his arms and gives Cassandra a look when she glances back in curiosity. "Mages can't help how special they are, or that that special power gives them an edge on regular people. However, they _can_ help what they do with that power."

"Yes, and Hawke stood by while the Chantry was destroyed." Cassandra replies from ahead. "He did not even punish the mage responsible. Absconded with him, in fact."

"Blondie wasn't in his right frame of mind." Master Tethras responds, testily. "Maybe if he wasn't so terrified of the Circle making him Tranquil or killing him, he might've been able to get some help."

"It is too bad the Circles do not better educate their mages." I believe I am sticking the blade of my staff too deeply into the ground. Relax your arm, do not react. "If they did, he may have known how to protect himself from being overcome by the spirit. Perhaps even how to release it into the Fade in his dreams."

A small moan interrupts our conversation before it can go further.

The whole procession halts and Cassandra turns to brush a hand over Nik's forehead. "Herald?"

"Cassie?" She mutters, eyes fluttering open. "How long was I out? Are we at camp yet?" Drowsy, too thick with sleep. She will slip back under before long.

"We are nearly back to Haven." Cassandra responds, pursing her lips. There is a curious pink pallor to her face. "And when we get there, we are going to _talk_."

Nik's eyes blink open wider and her expression is irritated with a suddenness that is almost startling. "About you refusing to do something you easily could have done, for someone who can't do for themselves, because you thought it beneath you?" She says. "I agree." Slurring a bit, but clear enough.

Master Tethras and I are both startled into laughter at that, as she slips back into her dreams. Blackwall shakes with repressed laughter. The Seeker is astonished and makes small noises of irritation as she goes back to marching at the head of our procession.

' _The Herald of Andraste does not shirk her responsibilities to her people.'_ I am certain that, at least, will remain true for a while.


	30. Chapter 30

I'm a little miffed I missed the introduction of Maura and Asha. But Josephine had to get things moving, she's too productive and professional to have done otherwise. She assures me it went smoothly.

By the time I woke from my weird magic-induced sleep and the slight high wore off- the two of them had already been sent back to Maura's farm. Along with a couple of farmhands, some soldiers and a Healer to watch over her while she recovers from the damage done to her body.

They had to carry her onto the cart, I'm told. I'm not surprised. Little Asha left me a drawing of her 'new mommy' so at least it seems they hit it off in the time I was unconscious and high- trapped in my cabin. And now Maura will produce food for the Inquisition's troops in return for protection and healing.

And now that I'm free…there's so much to do.

Firstly I had to figure out what to do with an entire group of dissenters that apparently tried to charge my cabin while I was unconscious. A bunch of villagers were injured in their determination to defend me, which makes me feel all kinds of bad.

Eventually I just said fuck it and told Cassandra to make them into farmhands. Imprisoning them would only make them a drain on resources. Working off their debts is the only logical option. And by 'debts' I mean the price of all those damn potions and poultices we had to use on the villagers they injured- not to mention wages for the healers. And paying the wages of the people they injured because they couldn't _work_.

So that'll take a while.

"I do not know if that design would be wise." Cassandra is looking at a sketch I did of a sword. A thin, rapier-like sword, to be exact. "Against a larger blade, it would break easily."

"I figured we could make it only a little bit thinner than most longswords." I shrug and tap the page. "And we could make it denser on the edges. Flexibility would be the main requirement- and Josephine knows fencing so she could find someone to teach some of our Soldiers to use them. It'd be a great boost if we could market and sell Inquisition-brand dueling swords..."

Her expression clears from the confused frown. "Ah. This is to be a decorative sword."

"Mostly." I admit. "But it would also be functional and require a lot of training to use. It'd be a point of pride and prestige."

"Oh I love the idea!" Josephine comes trotting out of her office with her notepad. She had to go looking for it after I told her what I wanted to talk about.

Apparently there's a lot of shit I have to consider before even thinking about having one made and I didn't even think of what materials it should be made _of_ …

I think we'd all die in a day without Josephine here.

"We must decide what materials to use, what design would be most suited- or if we should make multiple!" She scribbles on her notepad. "After all, if we make it a collection-"

"What is that?" Mother Giselle comes out of her office and frowns at the front of the Chantry. "I heard something out of the window in my office. Shouting, I think."

And then we all hear it, getting louder and louder as if coming closer.

Cassandra seems to react without thinking, shoving me behind her and readying her shield on her arm. Wow, she popped it right out of its place on her back with a shoulder move that I kinda wanna learn now.

"The Villagers love their Herald, they wouldn't come here to harm her." Giselle puts a hand on Cassie's arm. "I believe they _would_ come to seek her counsel, however. Whatever they are shouting about, they may-"

The Chantry doors slam open a bit and Cullen is standing there, looking cross. "I need a little help out here!"

And then he disappears and I see a divide in front of the Chantry before the doors swing back closed. "Shit!" I hadn't even thought about this! It seemed to resolve itself well enough in-game, I just figured if I saw this part I could…I dunno, wait it out? I mean, there's bound to be _some_ animosity- and so long as I keep an eye out for any violence, I thought-

Well, it doesn't matter what I thought.

"I will help Cullen, it is too dangerous for you." Cassandra turns to tell me with a grim expression. "They may escalate to violence quickly."

"I'm probably the only one they'll listen to, though. If they came up to the Chantry…" Who would they have come up here for if not me? Josephine is diplomatic and charming and more dangerous than she looks, but she wouldn't be expected to take a side in a debate like this-

Wait. "Wait, what are they fighting about?" They've been told it wasn't either the Mages or Templar's fault- the death of the Divine. "I need to go out, just keep beside me and if anyone attacks I'll step backwards into the Chantry."

Cassandra looks unsure, but she doesn't argue with me. I think she's learned that I'm going to do what I'm going to do and trying to stop me will just make it sneakier and harder to stop. She marches to the doors with me and opens them, stepping to the side as I walk out behind her.

There's an immediate cacophony of voices yelling _for_ me or _at_ me- until Cullen and Cassandra each take a side and hold back the masses enough that I can step out in the middle and still have some room to pace around.

They're still loud. I glance to the right and spot Ren in the crush. There's like thirty mages all squished together, and he's getting jostled and looking miserable. There are others I recognize, but he looks the most unwilling to be here…

So I walk over to the line of mages and reach through to tap him on the shoulder. The people part around me, looking surprised at my sudden proximity.

I step back out of the press of bodies and Ren follows me, looking nervous. "You mind making noise for me?" I ask. "Something loud enough to get everyone's attention?"

Because while the mages are slowly falling silent to watch me with Ren, the Templars seem to be getting louder.

Ren nods, pale faced. He follows me into the middle and I hold up a hand.

He shoots ice up into the sky and then zaps it with lightning. Bare-handed. It cracks loudly and some flakes of would-be snow float down on top of everyone.

The Templars are reeling back and I step up next to Cullen with my hands out. "Sorry, sorry. Just needed you all to quiet down. I can't fix the problem if I don't know what it is."

There's another rush of voices and I wave my hands sharply in the air, turning to do it to both sides. "Hush!" They fall silent, watching me as I pat Ren's shoulder. "You can go back to doing whatever you were doing before…I'm guessing someone dragged you with them."

He sighs. "Yes, lady. Thank you." He turns and walks down the steps and now I turn and give the Mages a disapproving look.

"How do you want to do this, Herald?" Cullen looks exhausted. He just wants to wash his hands of this, I think.

"Everyone step far back from each other. Only three mages and templars, soldiers-" I turn and make a face. "Whoever all you guys are- each, should be up here."

So the groups both move away from the front doors of the Chantry and whisper to each other in low tones, finally electing three people each to walk back up to where Cassandra, Cullen and I await them. Which means that both consider me some kind of authority- they'd have questioned me if they didn't.

So, good sign. Right?

The mages are all rather angry looking, whereas the templars just seem grim. _Is_ it all ex-templars?

Any Templars left in the village, I asked that they be weaned slowly off of Lyrium with someone else monitoring their usage. Cullen seemed offended and kind of angry at the time. Even argued that there would be no one to control the mages if they got out of control.

I'd looked him dead in the eye and lifted an eyebrow. _'Who's keeping the Templars in line? You? Then you must also recognize some other figure of authority over the Mages. Which_ _ **I**_ _am.'_ I'd informed him that Mages could be killed by anyone, that Templars are only special because they have their own brand of magic.

That seemed to shut him up, but it was angry kind of silence. I think he gets it now, even if he doesn't like it. Leliana and the others approved- well, Cassandra didn't exactly…but since the vote was three to two, it's happening.

"Okay. One at a time, and I'm going to choose who speaks first." I turn and glance between the mages, finally sighing and pointing at one of the warriors. "You. Without bias, can you tell me what's going on?"

He's pale and scarred with a mane of salt and pepper hair. "I dunno." He frowns. "We were all talkin' in the tavern." He begins, stroking his mustache. "Somebody said somethin' about mages killin' the divine. And we got in an argument over whether or not Gray Warden mages count as mages, or gray wardens."

I blink. "That's what this is about? Labels?" I turn to one of the mages and gesture at her. "You tell me some more of this, what's your opinion?"

She has ash-blonde hair and a few fine wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Laugh lines, but she's not smiling now. "Mages aren't one people. We're a bunch of people from different places. Even when we unify, there's differences." Ferelden accent.

I nod. "Your opinion being that it's Gray Wardens, and the fact that they're mages doesn't matter because they're a different people than yours."

She nods. "Yes, lady."

"Okay." I turn and gesture at one of the other warriors. "You?"

He's ginger-haired with brown eyes. "Magic is a force of evil. The Chantry has always maintained that magic-"

I wave a hand. "Okay stop there. I get it." I scoff and run my fingers through my hair. "This is easy to resolve." I shift my weight, crossing my arms. "Magic itself is a volatile force- but only when directed." I lift my hand and illustrate with an open palm. "If there was a flame in my hand, I could make it as big or small as I like. But the magic itself lies dormant without some kind of catalyst." I shrug. "Mages are that catalyst."

Cassandra moves behind me, I think to shut up or stop one of the Mages from moving forward.

"A mage that's untrained will have no way to control that power." I walk over to stand in front of the ex-templars, Cullen at my side looking poised to jump to my defense. "But the same could be said of someone playing around with a trebuchet without training." I tap my fingertips on my bicep. "If you play with things you don't understand, you're bound to hurt someone. But most mages have the control necessary to keep from accidentally incinerating anyone."

I pace away from the ex-templars and walk around in a circle in the space between the two groups. "It isn't the magic that leads them to violent actions but the other way around. A person, is what causes things to happen." I sigh heavily. "I understand why you see the magic as something otherworldly and strange. Because you've been taught to. But what does the Chant say about the Veil?" I place my words carefully, as I turn to face the ex-templars.

None of them look very happy, but they're still listening.

I grin. "It says the Veil is a construct. Whether or not it was made by the Maker, or some other god or even simply just sprung into being one day- it definitely says it was made. Yes?"

They glance at each other and nod after a pause.

So I give them my inevitable conclusion. "Which would mean that once, the Fade and the waking world were one." I smile mutedly as they shift in place. "The Veil is an unnatural construct. Which means that magic, is in itself- natural. Like anything else."

I sigh when the three warriors begin arguing again, waiting for them to fall silent once they realize I'm not able to understand them at all and that in fact, I wouldn't listen anyway.

"I'm not saying that magic isn't dangerous. I'm saying it's only dangerous because you make it so." I point at them. "And yes, I mean you. After all, who is it that's taught mages from the time they were born that they were unrepentant, evil monsters?" I tilt my head and lift a brow. "Are you surprised they try to live up to what you say they _are_?" Shrugging, I begin pacing again. "And besides that…You have your own kind of magic. Or hadn't you noticed?"

Cullen shoots me a look but I go on, regardless.

"Lyrium." I turn and face them. "It helps mages to recover the energy they use to manipulate the Fade with, do they not?" I lift a brow.

I watch the dawning of horror on each of their faces.

"The Chantry never told you that they were making you into the same kind of 'monsters' they told you the mages were." I tell them. "It is part of the reason I insisted you be weaned off of it. No one should unknowingly augment their bodies that way. If you decide to take Lyrium after you've all been made aware- you'll have to leave here, but I won't try to stop you."

One of the warriors denies it. "No! The…it only works on mages- it's a holy power gifted by-"

"By your own rote, magic is evil in some way." I tell him. "Do you not consider being able to rip a mage apart with your mind…to be magical?"

He begins hyperventilating and falls to his knees while the other two grip at each other like they're about to fall over. "I don't…no!"

Walking over and kneeling next to him, I put my hand on his shoulder. My unmarked one, just so I don't freak him out if it happens to spark. "The Chantry wanted to keep you leashed to them." I squeeze as he looks at me. "A drug that would create magic within you, but only if they deigned to keep giving it to you. The fact of the matter is, you were tools too." My sigh is sad and long. "You chose to become Templars, but in some cases you didn't have many other options. Or your family pressured you into it. It was something that couldn't be avoided, or if it could- you couldn't live with the consequences."

He dips his head. "I don't want it…" He whispers. "I don't…"

"If you just don't take it period anymore there will be side-effects." I inform him. "You may even die. The weaning I've enacted will ensure you are at least somewhat healthy." Shrugging, I go on as I stand up and pat his shoulder. "Cullen. I want you to help the men who want to quit completely. I can't make them keep taking Lyrium if they choose not to."

"Yes, Herald." His voice is raw, and I see the paleness has been replaced with red. He's flushed, eyes shining a little.

I walk a little closer and touch his wrist with my fingertips. He blinks and glances at me, eyes focusing on me with a sharp clarity that almost makes me flinch. "I can help you too, if you want." I mutter so quietly that I hope no one else hears.

"I can't believe you're all listening to this heresy!" A familiar voice barks.

Roderick walks up the path to the Chantry from…from the tavern.

"Of course Templar abilities aren't magic!" He shouts at them. "It is anti-magic!"

I snort. "Oh my god. You actually think that's different? Making something happen with your mind is still magical, whether it's geared toward creating something out of nothing or cutting off magic flow altogether."

"I would not call it magic." Solas has somehow appeared at the edges of the Mage crowd and he walks over as Roderick does the same. He seems to quicken his steps when Roderick turns to walk toward me. "But you are correct in that it is not mundane, either."

He steps in front of me just before Roderick can get close enough to touch, eyes all smoky and aglow.

Roderick scoffs. "Mages killed the Divine, you said so yourself."

I lift a brow at him. "No. I said they were being possibly controlled by a madman who looked like a monster with what I now understand to be Red Lyrium stuck in his face." I laugh. "You all talk about how dangerous magic is, but to whom? Mages are the most susceptible to attack by other mages. Blood magic, Demons- even if they know how to defend themselves they have an inborn vulnerability to it." Shifting my weight, I look up at the side of Solas's face. "That's why they made Templars to begin with. To be the exact kind of mage that could stop other mages in their tracks with little to no resistance."

He glances at me, eyes flashing with that winter-storm magic in them. "Yes." He responds, simply.

For once he isn't quibbling, and it makes me so _relieved_. Because he's seen what I'm doing. Does he approve? If he didn't, he wouldn't help….

I think.

"Regardless of any of that-" Roderick points at the mages, gesturing emphatically. "You leave them all without anyone to guard them. Who will keep either side in control? If you plan to erase the need for Lyrium and you set the mages free?" He asks with such an air of superiority.

It makes me laugh so hard I fall into Solas's side. He has to grasp my shoulder to keep me upright. "Oh my god, did you hear it!?" I look up at Solas with tears brimming in my eyes from mirth.

He nods, solemn but with a spark of… _something_ , in his eyes. "He just admitted to using lyrium to control the Templars." He informs the warriors next to us.

They all look a little flabbergasted, and then angry.

I interject before the fighting can begin. "And if he knows I've been trying to cut off your Lyrium, then he knew you were feeling more irrational than usual because of withdrawal." I hum and pull away from Solas, regaining my footing. His hand falls back to his side. "Which is probably why he went to the tavern to prod you into this fight to begin with. Hoping to restore the status quo or just cause chaos, I'm not sure." I give Roderick an amused glance. "It was kind of a stupid plan, if you think about it."

There is a sudden rush as the ex-templars leap toward Roderick and Cullen moves to intercept them. I whisper to Solas, "Barrier him, please."

He gives me a curious look, but acquiesces silently. After a wave of his hand, a barrier springs up around Roderick.

That stalls the two groups from moving forward as they see the conflict well in hand. The three other mages even move toward us with barriers springing between the warriors and Roderick, slowly pushing them away from each other.

I had to stop Cassandra from trying to keep them back when they moved.

Once the warriors have yelled themselves hoarse and made themselves weak by beating against the barrier, I gesture to drop them.

They all do, almost instantly.

Sighing and pacing over to a very pale, very sick-looking Roderick…I pause and stare at him for a moment.

He's just a feeble old man. He's been fed the same lines, he's been controlled as surely as anyone else. But of course, he has a choice in the matter. And a brain. He could decide to be different if it occurred to him and it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

He didn't have an entire pseudo-society of other Templars all reinforcing the bad ideas. He was mostly free. The Templars, even the good ones- they couldn't say or do anything to try and change things. Not if there were more bad ones than good ones at that particular circle.

So I just say, "you really have no idea how privileged you are. Not only in freedom and influence but simply by being born a nobody." I purse my lips. "You aren't expected to be anything because you aren't well-known and you probably don't come from a templar-filled family."

From the tight-lipped sour-puss look on his face, I'll assume I'm right.

"You could be anyone and anything…and you choose to be this." I turn and walk away. "Mages back to your places. I want all the Templars told about this and given options. I'll deal with any questions they have."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Nik is implying of our dear Chancellor-asshole is: He wasn't born into a noble family (Dunno about canon but in my headcanon he joined the chantry because he was small potatoes otherwise.) and as such, never experienced the pressure of responsibility to said noble family.
> 
> But on the other hand, he's also never been a commoner. (Also in my headcanon his family was just above the average. Enough to have more means than most but not enough to be considered noble or wealthy.) So he can't understand the struggles that the Templars have gone through.
> 
> Even the bad ones may have been pressured into it, and it's the mages who suffered.
> 
> *** And yes, I intend to put both Maura and Asha's meeting and the attack on the Herald's cabin into my story New Bits-- which I have not gotten ready enough to post yet. It will be from different perspectives as Nik was unconscious.


	31. Chapter 31

"I don't know about this." Cullen is pacing on the other side of the table. "In fact I think it's a horrible idea."

"It probably is." I grin and shrug when he shoots me a severe look. Then sober up and lean on the war table with a sigh. "Cullen, do you think keeping them apart will actually help anything? They need to see each other as people. They'll be less likely to attack someone they know is there to help them fight the enemy. It'd be self-defeating to take out your allies."

He makes a small, frustrated noise. "This isn't going to go well, even if we appoint peacekeepers like you want."

"I don't want it to be easy." I respond. "If it's easy, it won't mean anything. I _want_ there to be arguments and altercations at first." Grinning at the look on his face that clearly questions my sanity, I explain. "How do you understand someone, Cullen?"

"I don't…you know I never know what you want me to say." He's so frustrated with me, I should've expected that.

"You hear their side of the story. You feel their anger, their determination- you see what they do and say and weigh them against your own thoughts." Biting my lip, I trace a path over the map from Haven to the general area of Skyhold absent-mindedly. "There will be arguments and fights. The peacekeepers will break up those fights, and then I or someone else will ask them to think about what happened and explain it in their own words."

"And if they don't understand? If they don't want to?" Cullen asks, leaning on the table across from me, glaring at the map.

"Then we put them through sensitivity training." I say. "It's something where I'm from. If you don't understand, that's fine- but you have to treat people a certain way no matter what you think of them. Courtesy is there to keep _them_ safe from _you_ , as much as to keep _you_ safe from _them_."

"I can't see any harm in instructing the men to treat each other with respect." Josephine speaks up from the end of the table. She has to be here so she knows what's going on, I mean…she'll be the one coordinating it. "It seems similar to the veneer of courtesy that exists in all corners of Orlais."

"I suppose." Cullen huffs. "They aren't going to like it. They may end up disrupting operations just to complain."

"Then they'll be removed and sent off with some supplies and told not to come back." Crossing my arms, I stand up straight and level a look straight at Cullen. "The people here know what we're doing and that they're better off here. If they want the benefits of living here in relative safety and with more freedoms than most anywhere else, they have to live by the rules. Otherwise, they can just leave."

"Most militaries punish soldiers." Cullen says, leaning on the wall behind him and rubbing the back of his neck. "Why do you insist we abstain from such things?" Changing tack, I see.

"Punishments aren't really geared toward teaching someone, but making them suffer." Rolling my eyes, I pace in front of the war table and give Josie a tired smile. "By lashing them or making them dig latrines, you hope they'll remember the pain or labor and the unpleasantness will keep them from making the same mistakes in the future."

"Yes." He responds. Cullen seems less tired today, thank god. He actually seems to be taking well to the new potions that Adan and some of the healers came up with at my direction.

Just a bit of lyrium dust. Not enough to actually give any powers or make you feel the effects- but enough to take the withdrawal symptoms down a notch. It's what all the Templars are taking to wean themselves off now.

Adan and the other alchemists and healers hope it will eventually be possible to cut their lyrium off and simply give them the potion until their bodies recover.

Nodding and smiling, I explain my reasoning. "There are a lot of reasons that it's actually bad to do it that way. For one, by assigning latrine duty you associate good, honest, hard work with something bad. That's never good. People have to dig and fill latrine holes and I'd rather no one look down on them for being willing to do the work no one else wants to handle."

"I never thought of such work as being anything other than disgusting myself." Josephine admits in a small voice.

"It _is_ kind of disgusting." I soothe her with a pat on the shoulder. "But people who do the work you could never do because of being squeamish or what-have-you- should be admired for their willingness to do said work. Not looked down on."

Cullen paces now. "Agreed."

"Anyway." I lean on Josie's chair, half-sitting on the arm. It gives a slight creak, but holds. "Pain doesn't make people remember. Quite the opposite in fact. Our brains are built to _forget_ physical pain more quickly than anything." Chewing my lip, I consider my next words. "We're more likely to dwell on words. Actions that had no pain involved with them. We dwell on insults and even worse- our own mistakes as we understand them to be."

"And so you would rather leave them to their own thoughts?" Josephine asks, tapping her fingernails across the map in rhythm.

"In a way. Their thoughts, my opinion of their thoughts…" Shrugging, I get up and head for the door. "Let me know what you decide, Cullen. I want to do this as soon as possible."

Josephine follows me out with rushed little footsteps but I head straight for her office so I don't know why.

She ushers me into the seat across from her desk when I linger too long glancing over Minaeve's work desk. Wow, demon body parts look _weird_.

"You wished to speak of something else, Herald?" She asks as she settles, beautiful golden lace glittering in the candlelight.

"Religion." I say, nodding. "I want to make sure that people of other faiths are protected and provided for- the same as anyone who worships the Maker."

She blinks at me with her quill poised over her notepad. "I…do not understand? Are you not Andrastian?"

I lift a brow. "Whether I am or not, does it matter? Do I have to insist everyone believe the way I do?"

She falters. "I suppose not. But we are an arm of the Chantry, publicly disavowed or not."

"Exactly." I nod. "Publicly disavowed. Meaning we are _not_ an arm of the Chantry. They said so themselves." Crossing my arms and leaning back in the seat, I consider my options for this conversation and go with the quickest answer. "If people aren't afraid to be something other than Andrastian, more people might join up."

Josephine blinks rapidly and sits a bit more upright in her own seat. "Oh! I hadn't thought of that. Exalted Marches _do_ hang over everyone's head, or so I am told…" She thinks to herself for a long moment before scribbling and speaking at the same time. "If we separate ourselves from that stigma, we may indeed experience an influx of new members, recruits- and even those Andrastians who openly disapprove of the more…bloody actions of the Chantry in the past."

Grinning, I lean forward and tap the edge of her desk. "That's what I was thinking. In fact. We can create a whole new branch of Andrastianism. I mean, it's been done before."

Her expression is especially entertaining, then.


	32. Chapter 32

"They need something loose enough to catch wind in desert areas." I thump my fingertips on the table in rhythm.

Varric looks over the designs in my sketchbook- well, the one I put my armor designs in. My own, personal sketchbook is back in my cabin, hidden under my mattress. I really don't want Cassandra seeing me draw her in frilly dresses yet. It's gonna take a while for our relationship to reach that stage of comfortability.

And there are a lot of sketches of Solas in there, too, I admit it. In armor, in different tunics I want to have designed for the Inquisition…studies of his eyes…

"What about this one?" He turns it around. It's a turnaround of some mage armor I was thinking about. "Rogue or mage? They're in leather but they've got staffs."

I laugh. "I figured if we could teach the mages more mundane ways of defending themselves, they wouldn't even need to resort to magic if they didn't need or want to. And up against other mages, they'd have an edge in most cases." I also want some troops to learn to use staffs and staves as melee weapons instead of straight up blades all the time. More versatile soldiers means more victories for us.

"Hawke and Blondie would've loved these ideas." He mutters to himself, turning the page and laughing. "What's this one?"

I glance over and lift a brow. "It'd be armor for our researchers and other non-combat mages."

"Looks kind of familiar." He says. Then snickers when I shrug. "Not even going to deny it?"

"Like I should be ashamed or something?" My mouth tics at one end, up into a half-smile. "I like the way it looks, so what?"

"Like the way _it_ looks, or like the way _he_ looks, _in_ it?" He asks with a teasing tone and a twinkle in his eyes.

I think about it a moment and decide, fuck it. "Both."

He seems momentarily surprised. "What, just like that?"

"Like I said before, I'm not ashamed." I roll my eyes and tap the sketchbook. "It's only slightly influenced by his armor anyway. I'm surprised you could tell."

"The bits there are enough." He chuckles, glancing over my face like he's looking for a new piece to the puzzle that just got a lot more complicated. "After all, I've never seen a mage dressed up like Chuckles before. Always in robes. You've even got a robe on here."

"That's for protection from their work." My shoulders pop in a shrug. "If they splash acid on themselves or something." Like a lab coat.

"Alright…" He trails off, turning the page again. "Warrior armor seems a little more…trimmed down."

"I consulted with Cassandra and Cullen on what parts of the body are important to protect." I open my notepad to their suggestions. "I have a skirt of leather and metal pieces to protect the front and back of their hip areas with greaves and boots attached to each other but they're detachable if necessary."

Chewing my lip, I trace absent-mindedly over the armor pieces in the drawing. "Gloves and vambraces attached but detachable. Chest armor protects ribs and belly, choker protects your throat." It's not made of metal, but leather- might not stop a clean sweep from a great sword but against any rogues it'd be pretty damn hard to slit their throats.

"It's good, but it just doesn't seem…thick enough." Varric sighs and taps the helm. "And this thing? Would a Tal'Vashoth be able to crush this person's head with their bare hand? That's bad."

Chuckling and finding my notes, I place them in front of him. "Actually, with leather armor underneath, we only need a certain thickness to the metal. Yeah I can't draw it for shit, but they'll make it thicker when they produce the actual suits of armor. There was a whole discussion about it." I pout. "Harritt thought I actually wanted the armor paper-thin and called me an idiot."

Varric chokes on the tankard he was just about to swig from and shakes his head, beating his chest as he coughs and finally laughing out loud. "If it makes you feel better, he doesn't really like me or Chuckles that much either."

"I don't think he really likes _anyone_ , yet." I snort and crack my neck, reaching back to rub the back with my fingertips. "Ugh. I still have to go talk to Josie about this."

"Probably want to head off now if you want to get to bed on time." Varric sends me a sideways look. "This'll take a couple hours to iron out, and you know what happens when you miss your sleep."

Pouting, I put all my stuff together in the canvas bag I brought it in. "It doesn't make any sense that he gets cranky _for_ me when I miss sleep." Solas is very adamant I have at least six hours of sleep every night. He lectures me about taking care of myself if I fuck up and miss an hour or two.

Varric laughs as I walk out of the tavern.

Walking up the path to the Chantry, I recheck the contents of my canvas bag. All my notes, my sketches and even a couple gloves for holding the charcoal so it won't get all over our hands.

I figured, if we're going to Val Royeax to talk to the Clerics- we're going to need almost ceremonial looking stuff to wear to make a good impression. Be striking. That's how this started.

Then I realized, I need to get a different set of armor made for every place we go.

There are rainy places that are probably humid and some that are likely freezing cold. The Storm Coast is gonna be hell if we all don't have the right equipment for _that_.

The Fallow Mire is basically a swamp and we'd need really high rubbery boots to deal with it- though I don't think they know how to make rubber, so the boots'll have to be made of metal or leather or something.

Not to mention the places that are hotter than the Hinterlands- like way hotter.

The Western Approach and Hissing Wastes are going to need puffy clothes that billow with the wind, but that cover the whole body. As well as being functional armor. If I didn't make them cool enough we could pass out and die from heat stroke and exhaustion.

The soldiers would need these a long time before we would, seeing as we only travel places that need rifts closed- well. _I_ only travel places that need rifts closed. And that's being put off until after we address the Clerics in Val Royeax. We're leaving for that tomorrow.

Sigh.

I walk through the front doors of the Chantry, giving Mother Giselle a smile when she looks up from her prayers before an altar. She smiles back and returns to what she was doing. Chanting canticles under her breath, I think.

"Josephine, you busy?" I knock on the door to her room in the Chantry and wait till I hear her muffled reply. It sounds vaguely affirmative, so I open the door and peek my head around, just to make sure. "I have something I wanted to ask you."

And then I take a moment to blink at the piles of paper on and around her desk.

"Ah, Herald. What do you need?" She's scribbling away on a piece of parchment, not even looking up at me.

I can see that some of her hair is out of place, not enough to be that dramatic a change but it's odd for her. Her eyes have dark circles under them, and I think she's paler.

"Herald?" She glances up now, blinking softly at me. Like her lids are heavy.

"Josephine, do I outrank you?" I walk into her office and frown at the paperwork on her desk.

She blinks again, then stands up- wringing her hands and looking anxious. "I-yes, I suppose. Have I-"

"Go to bed." I demand. "Right now."

Her face softens. "Oh. I can't-"

"Wasn't asking." I point to the doorway. "I can get Cassandra to escort you there, if you'd prefer."

"But our correspondence!" She gesticulates wildly. "I have to answer the letters!"

"We'll handle the weeding process and when you wake up, you can look over our letters. If you want to correct them, that's fine. There's no reason you should have to do all this work alone, Josie." I wrinkle my nose. "Go."

She moves past me with a kicked puppy expression and I follow her across the hall to the bedroom she shares with Cassandra and Leliana. She takes off her shoes and slips under the covers, almost immediately falling asleep once her head hits the pillow.

And then I call on the War Council.

For the next three hours we are involved in reading, writing and re-writing. I'm pretty sure most of this bullshit is love poetry, but Leliana tells me that's just how Orlesians write.

After that, Leliana and Cassandra both stumble into their own beds, being careful not to wake Josephine. Cullen goes off to hit something with his sword before going to bed because- ' _If I see one more frilly curlicue around the first letter of a sentence, I'm going to use it to strangle someone._ '

I feel you, Cullen. I feel you.

So that just leaves me, exhausted both mentally and physically, to walk into Haven and enjoy the cool wind on my overheated wrists and fingers. Soothing the ache in my head and the burn in my eyes. The darkness is welcoming and the torches aren't bright enough to really tax me.

"Nik?" I jolt at the sound of Solas's voice calling my name and realize I've stopped outside the Tavern with a stupid smile on my face and my eyes closed. "What are you doing?" He's walking down the steps to my level, looking concerned.

' _I wonder if I look as tired as Josie did.'_ She probably had make-up and potions to stave off exhaustion for the most part. _'I probably look worse. I should ask for her secrets.'_

I grunt and shrug, not feeling up to speech at the moment.

He looks me over for a moment and makes a noise in the back of his throat, like a humming sound. "Tea?" With that wrinkle in his nose whenever he mentions the stuff.

I huff a breathless laugh and shake my head...then I bite my lip and nod.

A smile. "Come, then." I'm a little surprised he's not upset with me for not being in bed yet.

It will always mystify me that Solas is a master at everything. I mean, I get it- ancient elf that used to be like a god. But he had to learn how everything works in _this_ time in a _year_. So when he sets up a teapot in his cabin, brews it like he's always known how and gives me a mug filled with fruity-smelling tea that tastes like the essence of happiness- I'm just stricken with the wonder of it all over again.

"God this is good." I sigh and take a long drag of the tea.

His nose is wrinkling again when I look up. "I will take your word for it."

A hoarse giggle escapes me and I clear my throat. "How did you ever get so good at making this stuff if you don't drink it?"

He shrugs. "It is a fairly straightforward process. Brewing, mixing and serving. And I do occasionally partake when I need to." His eyes get _sharp_ as he looks into mine.

I look away, like I always do, and take another drink. "I know, but…" I can't learn things worth a damn if I have no real interest in them. Maybe that's just me.

"Is the mark taxing you at all?" He asks. Walking over to sit beside me on the edge of the bed. Really the only place to sit other than that desk chair near his window.

"Hm?" I clear my throat again and shake my head. "It's painful sometimes when it fluctuates, when I get near a rift- but it's been pretty silent so far."

"That is good to hear." He tilts his head and flicks his eyes over my face. "What has exhausted you, then?"

I laugh a little, and hand back the empty mug. "Josephine was tired, so I ordered her to go to bed."

He blinks. "I see." He doesn't seem to see. He's confused, you can see it in his eyes.

"So then, me and the rest of the War Council had to do all her work- she'll have to look over everything in the morning anyway but at least she'll be fresh, right?" I groan and rub my forehead with my fingertips. "God, my head hurts."

' _Maker! Damn it.'_

"If I may?" He lifts his right hand to cover mine over my forehead. "I could..."

"Uh." I think my brain is malfunctioning and that's...I mean come _on_ brain- he's just touching my hand! "...kay..."

His fingers start to glow and I can feel the healing energy seeping through my inflamed knuckles and wrist before sinking through to my aching brain. "You have overdone it with your hands, it seems."

"Mmhm." I murmur to the affirmative, humming more than speaking. It feels just as weird as always, touching my bones and my brain like fingertips- but it's different this time. Softer and more soothing. I don't even care about the weirdness so long as the aching goes away, I think.

He pulls my hands down to my lap and uses both of his to cup my temples. The soothing glow of magic loosens something in my brain and I sigh heavily as my brows and forehead become slack. His hands move to mine, picking them up and working the magic _around_ the mark in my left one.

"Do you often do things like this?" He asks, releasing my hands once they've returned to their normal size.

They've stopped throbbing and I feel like I could write for hours more with them before they got that bad again.

"Things like what?" I blink stupidly and realize I'm looking him in the eye a second too late.

His expression gets warm and amused and his lips tip up at one end in a smile. "You're exhausted."

"Yeah." I agree, rubbing my eyes. "Thanks for the tea. And the healing, I feel a lot better now." A lot more tired, but better.

"Be careful in the dark." He says as I get up and walk over to the door.

I glance back and almost do a double take. There's only a candle lit on his desk, and he's sitting almost completely in shadow. Eyes glimmering like a cat's.

I clear my throat and open the door, turning away from him. "I will."

' _Another image for my sketchbook.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a few days before I update again. I've got this idea for another fic I'm figuring out and taking a break to recharge but it shouldn't take me long to figure out whether or not I'm going to continue it and get back to focusing on this.


	33. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still taking a break sorta, but I'm ahead enough I can update today...and I did a thing. You can skip to the bottom if you want, it's spoiler-free. I just didn't want to clutter up the top here with my rambling.

This ship is vexing. No privacy, it is constantly in motion and even when I find myself able to sleep for any length of time, the dreams…are disturbing. I've chosen to completely forego any exploration until we are back upon a shore. Any shore.

The dreams at sea are never worth it.

I become aware that a conversation is happening and open my eyes, glancing over to the left where Varric and Nik sit together on a bench. I was meditating to pass the time, but this proves to be more engaging.

"What happens if the kid dies?" Master Tethras sighs and turns to give Nik a very grim look. "Her mother probably didn't name her yet because she didn't want to get too attached. You gave her a name, gave her hope…what happens if it goes bad? She's gonna be pretty pissed, Schemer. Once she gets past all the, you know, despair."

Ah, yes. The child that didn't cry. She was red-faced and hot to the touch. I thought perhaps Nik would pronounce the babe too far gone. In modern Thedas, there isn't much to be done in these cases.

But instead she immediately asked for a nearby mage to watch over the baby and her mother while she was gone. Firing off instructions to another mage to find Adan- writing it down when it became obvious it was too complex to deliver by word-of-mouth.

Nik sighs. "You can't think that way to effectively heal anyone." She informs him, adjusting the book in her lap and closing her eyes. She is pale and seems to be suffering from nausea. I have offered to help with magic but she refuses. "If any part of you thinks 'What's the point, they're going to die' then you can't help anyone with all that you are. You have to think 'This one is going to survive' no matter how hopeless it is. No matter how many you've seen die."

Unique attitude. Most healers detach themselves emotionally from their patients.

"What were the instructions you gave that boy?" I ask. "The mage."

She looks away and her lips purse for a moment. Interesting. "Ren. I told him what to feed her mother."

"Was her mother sick?" Asks Master Tethras, obviously lost.

"Her mother is the one who feeds her." She smiles unsurely, her cheeks coloring. "Breast milk?" Embarrassment?

He makes an understanding sound but tilts his head and eyes her face. "So what she eats has an effect on the baby."

"Yes." She responds. "The baby will get medicine with honey mixed into it." She chews her lip and glances down at the book in her lap. "Her mother is going to be eating a lot of dishes with onion and garlic in them. I had Adan mix up a small jar of mint extract that she can drop on her tongue every morning to avoid garlic breath and…" Making a face, she laughs. "Garlic and onion tend to linger on the palate. Poor woman."

"What was the child's ailment?" Cassandra in the corner near the chamber pot.

I would have offered to soothe her as well, but using magic on a Seeker or Templar may have unpredictable results. It is difficult enough to heal wounds without the magic rebelling. And I am _not_ a healer.

"An infection." She replies, raking her teeth over her bottom lip before drumming her fingers over the spine of her book. "If we caught it in time, the baby will probably be fine. If not…I'd rather have tried and failed than not tried and thought- what if I had?" She sighs. "And I needed her to have a name so I could refer to her in my letters and Leliana would know who I was talking about. Since the mother didn't have any idea what to call her, I just…well. It means 'life, living, alive'- things like that."

"It is a very pretty name. Viva." Cassandra groans and leans over, elbows on her knees, hands covering her face. "I hope we are not delayed. I cannot take much more of this."

"I brought some herbs with me. I could make us both something to help." Nik smiles wanly at Cassandra. "I don't want to toss my cookies again either."

Such odd turns of phrase, they never fail to pause me. Though they aren't difficult to parse. They are just…so unfamiliar.

"I would like to try it, at least. Before I am too sick to drink anything again." Cassandra follows her as she gets up and leaves the room.

We have only been on the boat one day. I believe they had hoped they would get used to it.

"You seem a little too happy with their misery there, Chuckles." Master Tethras teases from his seat.

"I am not." I deny, readjusting my expression. I hadn't realized I was smirking. "She is prepared for anything, to a ridiculous degree."

"Yeah, she's the paranoid type." He agrees. "Almost like Hawke, but actually- you know, does something about it." He chuckles. "Hawke is scared of everything, but can't prepare for any of it or he'll go crazy. He almost wrapped Fenris up in bandages from his head to his toes once when he took a really bad hit on the storm coast." Snorting, he shifts in his seat. "Fenris was really growly and broody about it, but you could tell it was because he didn't know what to do with the attention."

"I have heard few things about this Fenris." I tilt my head, questioning. "I read your book. Was it all true?"

"About Fenris?" He looks upwards with a thoughtful expression. "I think so. I barely embellished anything about him at all. It was dramatic enough on its own."

I chuckle to myself. "A slave fleeing from bondage, finally able to take revenge on his former Master. I must admit it was my favorite story within the book." I took too much pleasure in the image of Fenris crushing Danarius's heart.

"Figured that'd be your kinda thing. What did you think of Blondie's crusade?" He asks, watching me closely.

"I prefer to think of him as an unfortunate soul who made unfortunate choices." My lips seem to press tightly together on their own. I smooth them with some effort. "Justice and Vengeance, either…they do not sleep. They do not compromise. I can only imagine the hellish life he must have led, being constantly surrounded by injustice. Being unable to do much of anything about it."

"Yeah. Not many people want to talk about the situation that led up to the Chantry going up." He sighs, shakes his head. "It wasn't just the spirit though. Blondie was an angry guy before he met up with him, he said. He feels like he corrupted Justice."

"It could be the case." I respond, thinking it over for a moment. "But in this world with so many injustices around every corner…it could have simply been that Justice was overwhelmed with it all. Especially living in a mortal vessel who was aware of so much more than the average person would have known."

In all actuality, it will have been Anders's memories of the abuses he suffered in the circle rather than his anger about those abuses that would have caused Justice to warp. I only hope he is at peace now, with Hawke. Wherever they are.

It isn't often in this world that a mortal will bond with a spirit in such a way, with such sacrifice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://dragoandnikki.deviantart.com/art/Solas-Based-Researcher-Armor-642650290
> 
> Cause Mayamelissa inspired me to draw, but I suck at freehand, so I did it digitally. If anyone wants to 'fix' or otherwise use this image to make a better representation of this armor, feel free. I kinda suck, but I figured you guys'd want to have some things like this to see...
> 
> So I might draw some other armors if the mood strikes me.
> 
> So here ya go, Maya. An armor 'sketch' so to speak.


	34. Varric POV, Solas POV

It's interesting, watching them in a confined space.

Schemer always looking at Chuckles when he's not watching her, and Chuckles watching Schemer when she looks pale or nauseous. It's like the most awkward dance I've ever seen. And the Seeker notices it too. Albeit with a different understanding.

"Do you think there is something there?" She asks as they leave the room, arguing about something to do with that stunt she pulled with the Terror demon in the wolf den.

They're as bad as Hawke and Blondie when they really get going like that. Or Hawke and Fenris when the elf took issue with Hawke's self-destructive style. I think that had something to do with blood mages but I can't remember.

"There?" I'm a little amused by the look on her face. It's the most wistful I've ever seen her. "What, you mean existentially?" Nik introduced me to a couple of those 'existential theories' and I'm thinking of using some of them in my next story. The themes, at least.

"I meant-" She makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "She seems to be…very close to him. And he never takes his eyes off of her."

"You mean the way he babies her?" I chuckle and pull my journal out of my coat, scribbling in a note to add this to my book. It's too good not to include. Who'd believe it of the Seeker if they'd actually met her, though? "She might be…" I search for a good word and leave it ambiguous. Schemer probably wouldn't want me telling everyone she'd admitted to thinking of Chuckles that way. "…a little charmed by all the intelligence and the thoughtfulness. But I think she's more like a kid, to him."

Teasing someone in denial is one thing. It'd be cruel with Schemer, when it's so obvious she probably knows how he sees her.

The way he's always right there watching to make sure she doesn't injure herself makes me think it's as some kind of suicidal toddler or something. Why else stick so close and…that was a horrible mental image and now I want ale.

 

* * *

 

Solas POV

She gathers more than some when it comes to complex topics and she is less selfish than most, which I find refreshing…

"You are still missing the point." I huff and run my hands over my face, fingertips digging into my scalp as my palms press tightly over my eyes. "You are more important."

But she irks me _fiercely_ with her arguments. They are difficult to dispute not only because of their logic, but because they lack emotion entirely. How do I explain something like this to someone like her?

"You mean the mark is." She responds, lifting her hand and flicking her fingertips. "But I never intended to fight, I told you that." Always so specific, so accurate. I would appreciate it more if she did not use it _against_ me so often.

Her patience almost seems to be unending. It is…familiar and irritating. Why should she so closely resemble…

"The very fact that you think creating a distraction or luring wolves away from their intended targets not to be fighting- or that you can think of it as a safe-" I break off and lean against the railing. "All I ask is that you not participate in battle, you are unused to conflict and unable to fight."

"That's not _all_ you ask." She drawls, refusing to come closer to the rail. She has _some_ self-preservation then, at least. "I understand your concern, but you have to understand my reasoning. What happens if all my defenders get killed?"

"I know." I feel tight-lipped and I believe I'm grinding my teeth. "I know your reasoning. But the action was reckless, regardless. Not to mention when you walked out into a dispute between two _warring_ factions."

"I had Cullen and Cassandra and Josephine all watching me. Then you, when you got there." She replies. "I was never in any danger."

I cannot argue with her over _that_ , either. A Seeker to defend her from mages, an ex-templar to get between she and the warriors, and Josephine to usher her back behind the closed Chantry doors if anything were to go wrong.

I sigh heavily and shake my head. "You are going to be the death of me."

She grins a bit cheekily at me. " **Festis bei umo canavarum.** " She laughs at the surprise on my face. "I don't know much Arcanum or Tevene but I've heard that one before." She bites her lip. "People tend to say that kind of thing to me a lot in Thedas." Her expression becomes a bit bleak. "I can't change who I am. I want to listen to you, but it's not in my nature to ignore other people who need help."

I have considered once or twice if perhaps she is not who she once was. If perhaps she came across a spirit in the Fade who came back in her body. Compassion or some form of Purpose perhaps…but she is not quite _that_ naive. And if she was inhabited by a spirit rather than being replaced by one…it would be obvious.

To me, at least.

"I do not want you to change." I suppose it may seem different to her. "I am unsure how to proceed." I admit. "If you were as selfish as I am asking you to be, I would likely be lecturing you in the other direction." It's never occurred to me that I would find selflessness to be worrying or taxing. "But I cannot just let it go."

' _You are my only hope. You hold the mark, you keep it safe, you are even taking well to its magic in your own way.'_

Her mouth purses and she moves to lean against a nearby mast. "If you could teach me how to make a barrier with the magic in the mark, maybe you'd feel better." And then her eyes dart to me and she grins.

I feel my lips twist up in a half smirk. "Ah, how magnanimous of you to allow me the privilege."

She laughs. "I could ask anybody, but I want to know…" She glances away and her lips press together. "I want to know the way to do it without Circle prejudices getting involved."

I incline my head and curl my hands together behind my back, straightening at the admission. She is correct, it would be best if _I_ taught her. Sighing and rolling my shoulders, I assent. "I will teach you. But we will speak in Elvhen while I do so."

She groans, loudly. Making a face and slouching against the mast.

A small smirk curls the edge of my mouth.

"Shut up your smirky face…" She mutters and crosses her arms.

How quaint. The nonsensical statement she parrots at me when she feels I am getting too cocky. It sounds so fond and exasperated at once. I am still unsure whether or not it is an insult.


	35. Nik POV, Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val Royeax chapters are kicking my ass. I finally figured out some of the stuff that needs to happen and in what order and now I'm writing like the wind but...sigh.
> 
> Anyway, have an update. Because I love you and your adulation is my crack.

I'm at a little bit of a loss. I mean, how do you handle a situation like this?

The Envy demon is going to be in Val Royeax. Right at the same time as us, or at least- it was in-game. Running around in Seeker Lucius's body. I mean, the real Lucius joined a cult that wants to cause or revel in- the end of the world…can't remember. God, so many things are so fuzzy- the things that were important to me in-game are so different from what's actually important now.

The meeting with the Clerics is actually going to be a meeting though, which surprised me. The Clerics are expecting us, and instead of standing on a soapbox out in the middle of the square and shouting about us, they want to meet in the Val Royeax Chantry.

"So…" I stare up at the massive gothic-esque architecture. "This is what a Chantry looks like in the rich part of town." I purse my lips. "I could hammer out one of those embellishments, melt it down and feed the whole of Val Royeax for a week." Considering the size of the city, that's saying something.

It's a hell of a lot bigger than in-game, I know that much. A maze of streets and vendors and little kids running around picking pockets.

"I believe the gems and gold help to somehow elevate the Chantry above earthly concerns, but…" Solas squints up at the Chantry with me, tilting his head. "No. I cannot see the logic behind it either."

"Both of you, please." Cassandra looks very uncomfortable. And very fierce. Her dress armor is dark, sharp and forbidding. Very stylish. "I know neither of you is precisely Andrastian…" She pauses and thinks for a moment, looking very stony. "In fact I cannot recall either of you ever claiming _any_ religion- but please. The Chantry is everything to me. Respect that."

Solas actually looks repentant, about to open his mouth before I respond.

"No. The Chantry is corrupt. You value the Maker and your ideals." I step up next to her and tap the Chantry door with my nails. "Whether or not this building is here, or these clerics are there, it doesn't matter. You'd still have your beliefs. And if you don't…" I give her a long look. "What manner of faith is that?"

She stills with a shocked expression, just a moment ago looking so irritated with me. It's an interesting change and her evolution into thoughtful silence even more so.

And then the doors are being opened and we step back into formation to make a good first impression.

When the priests at the door open both doors outward and hold them for us, they see me in a plain black dress with a simple red scarf-like ribbon wrapped around my waist. A flowing hem that nearly reaches the floor, a sort of queen-anne neckline…

Josephine insisted I look at least a little elegant when I see the Clerics, so I was forced to model for a tailor and pack this dress for the journey. Though…

I smirk a little internally when I catch sight of Solas to my right, looking as controlled as ever- but I remember the look on his face when I passed him the fine robes and told him he'd be wearing them to the meeting with the Clerics.

Varric has his own dress wear, Cassandra has her armor, but he was still in his usual comfortable garb that would've stuck out like a sore thumb. He was a little picky about how fine it was and I told him fading into the background is kind of out of the question anymore. And anyone who'd glance past him because of the elfy ears wouldn't care about his clothes anyway, so what's the problem?

He shut up, but he seemed to be putting the robes on only under protest. I was fine with that.

It's cute that he put the jawbone on after and shot me a look, like I was going to protest.

After the doors have been open for a few moments, I start forward- not wanting to seem rushed or desperate in any way. Slow, measured footsteps. Footsteps that make a small clicking noise in the new shoes I had to put on before we even got to the docks.

My feet already ache. Not badly, but I'm sure they'll be smarting something awful before this is over.

I glance up because I'm paranoid like that, to check for bats or something- and find an archer instead.

I blink, but don't stop moving.

Sera blinks back, shifting as if about to disappear through the hole in the wall behind her.

I smile and turn my eyes forward again. _'That's new.'_ Maybe she'll shoot the arrow at my feet in the Chantry? That would definitely cause a stir.

* * *

 

Solas POV

 

Her entire manner changes as the doors open.

Her shoulders are usually relaxed, but now they lift and draw back. Her back straightening out of its usual slouch. Head lifted, chin up.

She moves in a glide, without a single hitch. Expression serene.

Where she would normally trip or stumble, there is only a calm, measured gait. Eyes lazily drifting around as she turns her head, this way and that. A smile on her lips once she's finished looking the room over.

"The Herald of Andraste." One of the Clerics at the head of the room stands to address Nik with a flourish of her robes. "How fortunate you could attend." The flat tone she uses is telling. As is the finely made red and gold pattern of her robes. She is very important.

"I'd rather you just called me Nik." She responds, giving them a small smile. "Herald of Andraste is a title. You call people by people names."

"Do you renounce the title then?" One of the others, white and gold garb. Lower in the hierarchy than the first speaker but higher than the sisters in Haven. She is young. "Do you admit to your heresy?"

Nik raises both her brows and tilts her head. "It wasn't _my_ heresy. I've never answered to, nor claimed the title. It was the people around me who started calling me that."

The Clerics shift in their seats and the one at the head, standing before them, tilts her head up. Looking down her nose at Nik. "You have obviously not denied or renounced the title if they are still using it."

At this, Nik laughs. Loudly. She shakes her head. "Do you know people at all?" She crosses her arms and shifts in place, looking completely at ease. "How many times have I said I'm not holy or special in any way at all except this, Varric?" She flickers the fingers on her left hand at 'this'.

Varric sighs. "Couple hundred would be my guess."

She smiles at him and turns back to the Clerics. "The people of Thedas want hope. So they created a symbol of it, of their own doing. I never pretend to be more than I am, but what right do I have to denounce someone else's beliefs?" She shrugs. "I have an acquaintance with the Chant of Light and the legends of Andraste, but I myself am not Andrastian."

"What are you then?" A man in plain white and red garb. A Chancellor, like Roderick. "Do you worship the old gods of Tevinter?"

She blinks and tilts her head. "Do people think I'm from Tevinter or is that just the worst possible thing you could think of?"

The earnest curiosity in her voice pauses them all. It never ceases to amaze me how open she is able to be. Never hiding anything about herself, being completely unashamed of things that would make most cringe in embarrassment…

She laughs softly and brushes her hair back over her shoulder. "I don't believe in any one god, per se. I believe there is a force that permeates everything and is part of everyone. But I don't pretend to know its name or what it wants from me."

"How do you live your life without guidance?" One of the clerics further in the back, stands to ask with horror. "Without instruction from a holy deity, how can you know you are not sinning?"

I watch with interest as her expression changes. She is exasperated, but patient. Indulgent. Almost as if she has answered this question before. She may have in Haven.

"Well, that's not really a simple answer." She smiles as softly as I have ever seen. "Everyone thinks everything is so simple until they are asked a question and then they say 'it's more complicated than that'." She turns a bit, causing her dress to sway. A twist of her hips and it sways back. "The truth is, everything is only as complicated as you make it."

She bites her lip and sighs, walking a few steps forward with us following. We are a few feet away from the Clerics when she stops.

It is obvious they are uncomfortable with our closeness. Several of them are eyeing the staff on my back. She notices.

"For instance." She turns to give me an apologetic smile. "I have a mage with me. What would you make of that, in your own opinion?" So curious, eyes glancing pointedly from person to person with an empty intensity. As if seeing them and beyond them in the same instance.

They glance at each other, perhaps deciding whether or not someone should be allowed to speak. The woman in the finest robes, standing before Nik- doesn't look away. She meets Nik's roaming stare and glares coldly at the way she smiles.

She lifts her chin and speaks, then. Drawing the other Cleric's attention. "I see you have a Seeker with you. To keep an eye on him no doubt." She gazes at Nik with something like approval, but cold approval. "Do you intend to re-instate the Circles, then?"

I would laugh if I could. The insinuation that I would need to be watched is enough to completely dispel any amusement I could have had.

As for Nik, her expression is flat. "Cassandra is more in charge of the Inquisition than I am. She's here to make the final decisions. I'm just a tool." She cooly waves her hand in front of the Cleric's face. "Solas is a mage who's never been trained in a Circle. And no he's not Dalish." She is completely deadpan. "He walked out of the woods, so to speak, after the Conclave. And offered to help." She tilts her head and her gaze cuts through the Cleric with cold intensity. "He saved my life."

A quiet echoes in the room. Silence a physical presence as she declares something they would consider to be impossible.

"He risked capture, prosecution, Tranquilization…" She lists off the many dangers to mages as she paces before them. "Not only his life but his entire _way_ of life, because of the Breach and the threat it poses to everyone. He knows more about the Fade and the Veil than anyone in the Circle, and he is free."

There is an uproar at that. A quiet, whispered argument is held.

"You know, if you take turns, I'm pretty sure you can all talk." She lifts a brow at their furious whispering and it ceases suddenly. "I'd like to entertain _all_ your concerns."

They watch her for a moment with unblinking eyes, as if unsure what she could possibly mean.

The first Cleric sneers at Nik and scoffs. "What answers could you have to satisfy us?"

"Probably none." She responds, giving the Cleric what could be considered a sad smile. "Because this isn't about me."

"Isn't it?" The young Cleric from before. Her nose is wrinkling as she regards Nik. "What do _you_ think this is about?"

"Without the Divine, you have no direction." She responds. "Uniting the people in the face of blasphemy or a false prophet is a lot easier than trying to get them to work together to save each other."

There is another whispered rush that goes through the room.

She holds up a hand. "I understand that you want to be unified. You want to feel strong, safe. But this isn't the way to do it." Her shoulders bow and then lift in a shrug. "When you're through destroying me, what will you do with the Breach?" She gives them all a look, sweeping her eyes across the room. "I admit, we don't know all the details of why or even how." A smile crosses her face and disappears. "But we have more information than anyone else. Why risk the destruction of the world when you could just wait and watch?"

She lifts her hands and parts them outward in a show of peace. "If I die sealing the Breach, the people are saved and you'll probably be able to prop me up as a hero of the Chantry. A martyr." Smiling softly, she drops her hands. "If I don't, and I go on to fight the man who killed the Divine, you could still claim me and my fight as your own. However."

She steps back and sighs, giving Cassandra a look. "If the Chantry works against those fighting to save Thedas, how will that look to the people?" She shakes her head and implores them with wide eyes. "You will destroy yourself by standing against the Inquisition. It may not be apparent yet, but-"

"How pathetic."

We turn in concert to face the threat. Cassandra with her hand on her sword, mine on the staff on my back, splintered wood cutting into my palm. Varric perfectly positioned before Nik with Bianca already in his hands.

A man with wizened features. Not quite aged, but lined. Lank brown hair a mess, hairline receding. There is something…wrong.

"Begging for scraps." He sneers straight across the room at Nik. "Cajoling and manipulating for whatever they will give you." Templars follow him in, two on either side of the doors.

Nik's expression is flat and she lifts her hand. "You're one to talk." The mark sparks and a glowing line of power streaks toward the man in what I now see is Seeker armor. "Demon."


	36. Varric POV, Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More other POV's!! Most of you guys seem to like these, so have fun with it.

Shit! Usually only Hawke gets into this much trouble.

"Rragh! You!" The Demon has recovered from flailing upon the floor. Being forced to take its true form seemed to hurt it. It has no eyes, but we all still know who it's looking at.

We don't like it.

"Get her out of here!" I train Bianca's sights on the Demon's feet and shoot a couple bolts to pin it down. It's a macabre, pale thing. Looks like a corpse with bits ripped off of it that were stitched back together. Badly.

It screams, outrage more than pain. "I will become YOU!" It screams.

Chuckles is already moving her, barrier around them both. She's moving, but arguing. "No, we have to stay in the Chantry, the Clerics should go- it's confined here, we can fight it better- if you take me out it's going to follow!"

Seeker curses and shouts. "She's right, we cannot put the people in danger!" She turns to the Clerics cowering in the back. "GET OUT!"

They all jerk in surprise, but they move. Into rooms beyond the main hall. Probably bedrooms instead of anywhere that could lead out, but at least they'll be out of the way.

The demon is jerking and thrashing, pulling the bolts out with its creepily long fingers.

"Varric!" Schemer's in a corner with Chuckles standing in front of her, facing the damn thing. "Keep it pinned as long as you can! Cassandra, smite it!"

The Seeker shifts into a defensive stance and throws her blade forward like she's thrusting it through someone's very unlucky body. A waver in the air and the Demon is shrieking in pain this time.

I fire a few more bolts into its feet. Schemer didn't even have to ask. But Hawke always felt like he had to get everyone on the same page too. Keeps everyone from getting confused, I guess.

The Seeker jumps forward as the Demon starts contorting itself into weird positions, her sword lashing across the thing's hide with enough force to rip open the flesh of its leg. It doesn't bleed, but sort of…well, it's flesh flaps and there's this weird green haze seeping out of the wound.

' _Shit is weird.'_

"Light him on fire or something, I can do the barrier." I glance over and feel the sudden urge to roll my eyes and mutter to myself.

Schemer is trying to convince a very stubborn-faced Chuckles to drop the barrier and fight the demon. I know they've been practicing with barriers, but I don't think she quite has it down yet.

"Throw a barrier over the Seeker if you need something to do." Chuckles is deadpan.

She pouts, actually _pouts_ and throws her arm out. The mark fizzles.

"So that's a no, then." She sighs and drops her head.

The expression on Chuckles's face says yeah, that's a no.

"Hey you!" She looks up suddenly, grinning at the roof. "Wanna help us?"

We all look up, the demon still screaming and thrashing, to see an elf with a bow hanging out of a hole in the wall.

Short blonde hair that looks like it's been ripped off instead of cut. A lopsided grin full of teeth. "Why should I? Seems alright!"

I can only pretend to know what she's talking about. Sure, we've got it pinned for now. But pretty soon it's going to break free. Injured but mobile.

"Sure." Nik shouts back, shrugging. "Just figured the faster we put it down, the less people are in danger."

The elf's ears go back and her lips purse in a little moue of irritation. "Fine!" She mutters curses to herself as she climbs out of the hole in the wall, out onto a beam running across the ceiling. "Lookie here!" She takes the bow off her back, nocks an arrow and aims straight for the demon.

* * *

 

 

Solas POV

We become separated when my barrier shatters under an especially heavy strike from the demon. I have to shove Nik away from me- and then its fists hit the floor between us.

The demon shrieks and turns, contorting itself into an unnatural shape to strike at Cassandra behind it. Then it picks up a nearby seat and throws it…up.

"Yeehhhhh!" The elven archer on the beams above us is displaced. She flails and falls backwards.

I don't see Nik move. There is a blur and suddenly she is there, a barrier warping the air around her, watching the woman fall with unblinking eyes.

She hits the barrier, it gives- then shatters. She falls on top of Nik. Of course. "IGH!"

Master Tethras is laughing as I throw a barrier over both of them. "Never seen you move that fast before!"

"Stay where you are!" I shout when I see her scrambling to get out from under the dazed archer.

I am overwhelmed with the energy spilling out of the demon. It is too much to simply take into myself at once. Pulling it into my staff for later use is completely useless as it can only hold so much magic at once. I can feel it splintering further even as I spin and whirl it to direct ice and lighting toward the demon.

My palm is raw, scratched and filled with bits of splintered wood. Ignoring the pain is taking significant focus.

Master Tethras and I can keep it pinned down while Cassandra slices it open again and again in different places- places where the lightning can grip and strike deeper because she has breached its skin.

The archer lends her arrows when it's focused on one of us, distracting it long enough to get distance between it and whoever it was going after before allowing Master Tethras and I to draw it back.

I can hear Nik muttering to herself from within the barrier. The sound is distorted and echoes in the room, but I can catch a few of the words. "Damn it. Can't…at all?" The mark sparks but I can feel it settle before it can erupt or discharge. "Work with me…!"

She is constantly trying to force the Mark to do magic. It exhausts her when it finally does, and she is usually unconscious by this point. I wonder why she has not fallen over in a daze yet. One barrier does not take much energy for most mages, but she is not a mage.

And I am fairly certain she just fade stepped in her panicked flight to try and catch the archer.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double-updating to comfort my readers on this...confusing day.

I had to destroy Envy.

I thought maybe I could 'purify' it and turn it back into whatever virtue it might have been…but it's always been Envy. It was apparently born that way. Born, manifested…whatever.

Sera's run off with a promise that I'll be seeing her again soon, which made Cassandra suspicious and put her on edge. I had to inform her that I thought Sera was looking at me for another group of people who might want to join the Inquisition.

After finding out who, she had to look at the reports I'd asked for from Leliana before coming here. Yeah, I had her look into the Red Jennies beforehand. Citing their invisibility and ability to cause chaos as a reason for my interest.

Solas and Varric are sitting with me in a cafe while Cassandra speaks with the clerics. They want another meeting, hopefully one that won't be interrupted by a demon trying to kill us all.

They actually tried to accuse me of turning him _into_ a demon.

Cassandra was the one to call them idiots for that one. With Solas. And Varric snorted in derision a couple times just to be sure they got _exactly_ how incredibly stupid that accusation _was_.

"C'mon Schemer, it's alright." Varric is trying to cheer me up, but even his warm honey voice and the smoothness of his quips aren't enough to pull my lips up into a genuine smile. "Eat your cookies."

Solas sighs, picking at one of the small pieces of cake on his plate. Three different flavors he keeps alternating. "She is not upset because she could not fight, Varric. She is mourning the loss of something she could not save."

My spine quivers a little at that. He's right.

I squeeze my eyes shut and my shoulders droop. "Why couldn't I change Envy into something else?"

"Because you did not truly wish to." Solas informs me. "You wanted to save it, but it was obvious it did not want to be anything other than what it was. You haven't the cruelty or hardness required to force a modification of the body and soul of a demon that doesn't want your help."

"She was able to fix that eh…Excitement spirit, though." Varric says, tapping the table. He's eating a small meat pie with a spoon. Smells like chicken pot pie…?

"That was a spirit that had been twisted. It had been driven mad. It did not choose its new form." Solas informs him, leaning back in his seat and popping some strawberry cake into his mouth.

"It's just like people." I mutter. "If someone is just wicked inside, you can't help them no matter how hard you try…" Bowing my head, I rub my face with my hands. "Twisted spirits are more like people who've been forced into roles they're unsuited to in life. You can give them direction and support and they just become who they're supposed to be."

"Yes." Solas reaches over to tug my left hand away from my face, checking the mark with a brush of his fingertip over my palm. "How odd. You are clearly in distress and yet the mark isn't fluctuating."

"I don't think the power level is enough." I pick my head up and frown at the mark. "I…I don't know but I think it spoke to me."

I see the surprise get shut down fast on Solas's face. "Oh? What did it say?"

"It was less words and more meaning. Like…" I search for a comparison. "Like when someone says sword. The word doesn't pop into your head. An image does. The feel of a sword in your hands if you use one." I groan. "Like whispering right against someone's skin, drawing the letters but not saying the words…"

Making a frustrated noise, I let my hands fall to my lap.

"Okay, I'm using that last one." Varric is scribbling in his journal. "I can think of at least ten different- no twelve. Twelve different ways to use that in a romance or an action scene. Maybe something metaphysical."

Laughing and running my fingers through my hair, I shrug. "Use whatever you want. But you've gotta let me look at the manuscript before you send it off to your editor. If you're gonna be using so many of my words."

He huffs and shoots me a small grin. "If you're as good at storytelling as you are everything else, I think I'd actually benefit from that."

I flush and look down at my lap. "I'm not that great at anything, really. I just have a base minimum of knowledge in a lot of areas. Jacks-of-all-trades aren't professionals in anything."

There's a pause and I glance up, turning redder at the skeptical looks on their faces.

"You've learned to use the mark for something other than sealing rifts within a month of gaining it." Solas is looking up, like he's remembering while he embarrasses me. "You know how to make soap, paint, pigment for dye-"

"Okay, I get it." I grunt and curl up into a little ball in my seat. "I'm good at stuff, leave it alone."

They exchange glances, I can see it in my periphery, but I refuse to look up. I nibble on my cookies, dunking them in my milk as they continue the conversation- mostly Varric asking for clarification about what kind of demon Envy was and how it took the form of the Lord Seeker and shit like that.

After a while, we leave. Varric drops a few coins in one of the server's hands as we go. I'm pretty bored by this point. Not that the conversation about Envy wasn't really fascinating, but I kinda already knew how it handled its victims.

' _God my feet hurt.'_ Those damn shoes broke while I was rushing to rescue Sera. Now I'm walking on Cobblestones with ballet flat shoes so it's better but…walking on a stone surface with sore feet still sucks.

"So, where to next?" Varric keeps pace with me. "The Seeker gave us the whole afternoon-"

A pained hiss brings both our attention to Solas as he heals the palm he wrapped up earlier when he was all out of mana.

He glances up with a relieved sigh and blinks at the fact that he has our undivided attention. "What is it?"

"His staff is splintery, isn't it." I deadpan.

' _I thought he'd injured it fighting Envy- well, I guess he technically_ _ **did**_ _…'_ I just hadn't expected him to have hurt himself on his own weapon.

Varric snorts a little. "Yeah, pretty much."

There is an interesting flush inching up Solas's throat and his ears are turning noticeably pink as well. He's scowling just a little. "It serves its purpose."

I take a deep breath and exhale very slowly. "What do you use your paycheck on?" I ask.

He purses his lips and glances away from me. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Mostly shit for potions." Varric answers me. "And he buys all his own paper and sketchbooks and shit."

Solas sighs, turning pinker. "I suppose it would be futile to ask how you know that."

"We're going shopping." I say, leaving no room for argument. "I need a new dress for the second damn meeting with the clerics and you need a staff-"

" _If it breaks and he's alone he could die._ " Cole appears in our midst, looking at Solas. Almost as if he just walked up to us, but I know he probably just popped out of a Fade pocket or something. " _Gasping, gutted-_ "

"Cole!" I exclaim, too floored with sudden happy feels to even care that the other two will ask questions about who he is and how I know him. The words themselves are worrisome, but I don't plan on hiding the fact that Solas's death terrifies me anyway.

He looks almost like he's been slapped for a moment, and then it dissolves into an awed expression. "I've never helped just _being_ before…how did I do that?"

"Going to introduce us to your friend, Schemer?" Varric is eyeing Cole like a missing puzzle piece, trying to figure out where it fits.

"Uh…" I pause and glance around the immediate area. There's no one really in earshot… "He's a very special… _Compassionate_ friend of mine." I look Solas straight in the eye as I say so.

His puzzlement dissolves into understanding and then soft delight as he glances at Cole. "Well met."

"Hello." Cole responds, blinking his big blue eyes at him. "You're Solas."

"I am." Solas smiles. It's small and warm and something new and it kind of makes my chest squeeze up.

" _How can someone so warm be so cold?_ " He asks, whispering and glancing over at me.

I flush and laugh, reaching over to pat his shoulder. "Try not to verbalize too much, we're in public and people could take notice."

He nods his head and gets a vaguely determined look on his face. "I will try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't realized how apt some of the things in this chapter were for today's weirdness. There is a strange parallel.


	38. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we've met Cole and now we have a Solas POV chapter.
> 
> I'm wishing all my readers happiness and safety today.

It didn't take Master Tethras long to catch on to the fact that he was in the presence of a Spirit. Though he asked in very vague terms whether Cole was possessing anyone or not.

Nik answered with a very firm negative and told a story about a man who carved a statue of the perfect woman and willed her to life with his love. Apparently Cole was created or at the least drawn across the veil as a result of someone else's need for help.

She is accomplished at implying very much with very little.

A spirit of Compassion…and she seems to know him quite well though he seems a bit mystified that she sees him and remembers him from one moment to the next. It isn't surprising, now that I know what his nature is. She embodies many virtues, but Compassion seems to be closest to her heart.

She walks very closely to him, holding whispered discussions- explaining thoughts and feelings that he cannot yet comprehend for himself. It is surprising in a way, but I am not truly astonished at this turn of events. We've spoken about Spirits before, often at length when she became curious about the nature of certain Virtues and Vices.

"So, tell me." Master Tethras is walking a bit apart, but still near them. Speaking in hushed tones. "What's it like to suddenly…exist?"

The question itself is one I'm sure most mortals would think to ask- but most spirits wouldn't know how to answer.

Cole gathers his thoughts for a brief moment and responds, "I don't know. What was it like to be born?"

Master Tethras huffs in amusement. "Fair enough. I don't know either."

"It's very traumatic." Nik offers to Cole. "If we remembered being born, we'd probably never recover from it." There is a smile on her face, secretive as if laughing at a joke no one else can guess.

Cole turns to her, and I can see his eyes, far away. " _He was warmth and sunlight and his eyes were the galaxy. Burning, brushing by-_ " A gasp and then Cole was fidgeting. "It didn't hurt and then it did, did I do that?"

"It's fine, Cole." She smiles with some sadness. "He wasn't real, anyway."

"You don't know that anymore." He whispers.

She frowns. "I guess not."

"Who are you talking about?" I ask. My curiosity has gotten the better of me.

She almost seems surprised at the question. "It was…well, he was in a story. Like…well." She frowns further. "He was an assassin, but he was also like a holy man. Very spiritual and accepting and calm." Sighing and crossing her arms, she leads the way toward the shops and stalls in the main courtyard outside the Chantry. "He died in the story and it made me sad."

So simple, and it rings with truth…but she is not giving all of the details. I suppose I've no right to ask for them.

She takes us to a stand selling staffs and staves first. I try to tell her I can wait until we get back to Haven, as I seriously doubt we will encounter trouble like Envy again and my staff should hold for the time being.

She looks me in the eye. "Don't assume anything, Solas. Especially not something like that. We could be converged upon by an entire demon army in the marketplace for all we know." Her eyes dart away. "You can get a cheap one with a metal grip, then when we get back to Haven I can have one made special for you so it won't splinter so fast." She bites her lip and glances up to catch my eye again. "I get the feeling you don't often need a Staff and you're still getting used to it."

I control my urge to twitch in surprise. "Mages require staffs to focus their magic."

She smiles almost slyly. "Vague statements don't really trick me." Her eyes turn to the space near us where Master Tethras is conversing with Cole. "I just don't say anything because if you don't wanna talk about it, you don't have to."

I am staring at her, I know- but I cannot seem to help it. Searching her eyes for something accusatory or…

"Here." She picks up a staff off a table and stands it on the ground next to me. It is a bit taller than I am. A circular iron frame on top, holding a plain Onyx focus. "Would this work?"

I curl my hand around the iron grip and feel the staff respond readily to my magic. They always do. But this is…easier, than my current one. I had assumed they would all be equally uncomfortable to wield, as they are confining- and it still is.

But… "Yes, thank you."

She grins and drops coins into the merchant's hand. "Good, let's go!"

"Wait." I pause her before she can reach Cole and Varric and regard her curiously for a moment before asking an extremely dangerous question. "Why do you not wish to know why I have never used a staff?"

She laughs, surprisingly. "Solas, every action you've taken while with the Inquisition has been for the benefit of others. I don't care how powerful you are, how unorthodox your casting or where you learned everything you did- well." She turns pink and glances away, shifting her weight and biting her bottom lip. "I really really wanna know where, so I can learn it too-" Her grin is open and bright and unapologetic. "But I trust you."

I follow her as she walks away, silent. A proclamation of trust is no small thing. From her…she does not speak earnestly about her emotions. Her thoughts, her convictions, yes…but even now, she turns pink and avoids looking at me.

Of course this is good. Trust means she will be much more likely to listen to me. I will be able to direct her actions even if only a bit.

I pull the nearly broken staff out of place off my back, dropping it into a refuse bin and replacing it with the new one. It isn't durable enough, and will soon splinter anyway…but the grip will ensure I do not cut myself on it and for now that is enough.

I do not realize I have a smile on my face until she glances up and returns it, eyes dancing away from my own.


	39. Solas POV, Varric POV

She has asked me to represent the Inquisition.

Cassandra wanted her to meet with the leader of the Loyalist mages who sent an invitation to a Salon just after the battle with Envy was settled.

When she first turned and asked me, I thought she was asking me to accompany her. But it became apparent, she wanted me to go in her place. _Alone_. Well. With Master Tethras, but without _her_.

' _I know the loyalists are all about the Chantry rhetoric, but a lot of mages are afraid of what they can do. Not because they were told to, but because that's just…part of who they are. They need control and at some point in their life, they lost it.'_

I admire her compassion and understanding in most cases. Though this particular issue does seem unnecessarily complex when she puts it in such a way. I prefer it when there is a correct answer and an _in_ correct answer.

" _Inquisition!"_ I enter the Salon with only Master Tethras at my side and I hear this hissed about the room. _"An elf and a dwarf, my they_ _ **will**_ _recruit anyone…"_

I choose to ignore the whispers that are useless to me and drift toward the servants with wine. I have no doubt that if she were here, Nik would undoubtedly be snarling by this point if she could hear them. The image itself is enough to push back my irritation.

There are plenty of pieces of gossip floating about. One that halts me as I take a sip from my wineglass.

" _Did you hear about that one? The Inquisitor_ _ **dotes**_ _on him."_

My eyes nearly clench shut, because I knew this would be a problem. They will notice the way she caters to her people and assume there is a lewd explanation. Because so many of us are nonhuman in the Inquisition and she treats us all with the same consideration…they will assume that is the only explanation.

I sip my wine again, throwing a glance at Master Tethras, whom is already socializing.

' _Varric is a beloved, respected author. Even if he's not super popular in Orlais or whatever, they'll still at least listen to him even if…'_ She had scrunched her face up, not reluctant to speak of how elves were treated in Orlais but disliking it so much that she could not finish.

It seems she was correct.

"Ohhh!" A woman in a curled mask walks up to me with a man on her arm. His possesses the same curl, but with different coloring. A married couple, then. "You are with the Inquisition, yes?" Her eyes sparkle with something like delight.

"I am." I respond, head tilting. Expression flat enough to be blank but pleasant enough not to be rude. "Are you interested in the organization?"

"Oh, very!" She giggles, nearly a squeak. Her cheeks are quite flushed, her eyes hazed over, just a bit. "The Herald…is she what they say she is?"

Ah, that is a troublesome question. Nik regularly disavows her holiness, but if _I_ do…or if anyone else does, truthfully… "I don't pretend to know the will of the Maker." I finally respond. "But the Herald does close rifts and helps refugees where she can." Safe, diplomatic.

"We've heard she's quite fearsome." The man whispers, conspiratorial. "They say she nearly killed someone with a tankard once?"

I try not to let my amusement show. "The Herald is usually more on the thoughtful and forgiving side…but yes, she did try to beat someone about the head with a tankard once." It was an amusing sight. "It seems he was paying too close attention to a barmaid who happens to be her close personal friend. She didn't appreciate it."

"Ah, so valiant!" The woman declares with enthusiasm. "Only the Herald of our lady Andraste could be so."

Religious fervor is inspiring, but can also make one immeasurably uncomfortable. I am at once glad that Nik did _not_ come. "There are many valiant people in the world. One need only search for them." Though I fail to mention the only people I've met with any quality redeemable enough to be called 'valiant' have been Spirits…and Nik.

Perhaps Master Tethras, as well. The Seeker if she were to learn to think beyond her order…

That revelation is something in and of itself, actually.

* * *

 

Varric POV

 

I knew the guy was trouble as soon as he walked up. Glazed eyes locked on Chuckles, cheeks flushed.

A mask that looked a little dented and discolored, like he couldn't afford to have it repaired or cleaned. Clothes faded and frayed at the edges, except his doublet which looks pretty unnecessarily fancy.

"Inquisition!" The man spits. "A fecking elf and a dwarf, sent to do the dirty work of a bunch of criminals, rogues and crazed ex-templars and Seekers."

Gotta give Chuckles credit, he doesn't really react other than a slight head tilt and a blink. "Ah. You wouldn't be familiar with our work." Said in the most dismissive tone I've ever heard. Like he doesn't even think enough of the guy to insult him. Damn.

"I'm familiar enough!" The man snaps. "All of this 'restoring order' nonsense has nothing to do with altruism. You're just a mealy-mouthed little organization, grasping for power."

And, I nearly dropped my jaw, Chuckles just looked at the guy with amusement all over his face and said: "If that were true, would it be wise to alienate us before you have decided whether you can use us or not? Are you certain you are Orlesian?"

It was such a _Schemer_ move, to say something so openly and with a touch of innocence in his voice...

If I could, I'd be laughing my ass off right now.

"How dare you!" The man in the fine doublet reaches up to grab at a sword on his back. "You will come outside to settle this if you-"

A sudden crackle and Messere Loudmouth is frozen in place. He grunts and whimpers under his breath.

"My dear Marquis." A cultured voice, from atop a set of nearby stairs.

The woman who descends the steps is elegant and beautiful. But dangerous and edged like a living suit of armor.

"How truly embarrassing for you." She reaches the end of the stairs and sweeps toward the 'Marquis' with intent. "To be caught harassing such influential members of the Inquisition." She turns her gaze to us. "Messere Tethras, I know your work…as for you…" She walks around the Marquis to address Solas with narrowed eyes. "I've heard things. I wonder how much of it is true?"

Chuckles just smiles. "I'd wager only half of it, though knowing which half is the tricky part."

I've never seen Chuckles talk like this before! Oh Schemer's gonna get a kick- wait. Does she already know? How did she know to send him here?

"Indeed." The Iron Lady inclines her head and turns to regard the Marquis again. "Now. What shall be done with you?" She glances back at Chuckles with a wry twist to her mouth. "You are the injured party here. How would you like him to be dealt with?"

There's an internal struggle, I can see it. No one else should be able to, I just know Chuckles pretty well by now. A flicker in his expression, a tic in his jaw. And finally…

He does what Schemer would do.

"You should let him go." He says. "If he has need of work after this, the Inquisition would welcome him with open arms." And then he gives the Marquis a look, narrow eyed and intense. The kind of look that makes Schemer duck and cover. "Though if you have it in your mind that the Inquisition is power-hungry, perhaps you should not. We require our people to work much harder than I'm sure you have in your entire life."

Well, that last bit was pure Chuckles. But hey, the guy tried.


	40. Nik POV, Cassandra POV

I got a lot more for the equipment and pristine breeches than I'd thought I would.

I spent all night last night after getting back from Sera's recruitment -with Sera in tow- washing and polishing the blood off of everything we picked up. The breeches were in a sack and so were clean enough.

I got a handful of sovereigns, silvers and coppers which I immediately went to a stall and handed over for all the very simple dresses, pants, shirts and shoes they had. I added some of my own money to the tiny pouch and then had Varric negotiate prices for me.

"This is an awful lot of clothes for one woman, Schemer." Varric is giving me the side-eye.

I lift an eyebrow. "You _know_ this isn't for me. Why not just ask?"

He laughs, a surprised sound. "I knew I named you right." Then he sighs and shrugs. "There are plenty of people who need it, but I'm going to guess the Crossroads."

"Many of the people there have benefited from your hunting incentives." Solas breaks into the conversation, slinging a sack over his shoulder as we walk away from the market place. Varric and Cassandra both have a sack, as well. "But under their fur blankets and coats, they are wearing rags. This should be a great help to them."

Ah yeah. I asked Josephine if we could afford a few extra Sovereigns going to whomever hunts the most ram, bear or deer for the Crossroads and Haven…and everywhere else we're going to spread to in the future.

Basically we'd go on a sliding scale. And they had to check in with one of our requisition officers in the area to have their kills officially tallied.

I spot a flicker of movement and blink when Cole disappears from my sight. I've told him to keep out of range of sight when Vivienne is around. I introduced him to Cassandra and she still seems to be twitchy and irritable because of it. He tries not to let her see him either, because she's so upset by him.

Speaking of Cassandra… "Hey Cassie, did you get any new outfits for the meeting with the Clerics tomorrow?" We're going to talk about Envy and the Inquisition's place with the Chantry and a bunch of other shit that doesn't seem all that important.

"I have my dress armor, it is sufficient." She glances aside at me. "You are the one who needs to look elegant, and wearing the same dress again would be a faux pas, or so Josephine has told me."

"I believe you can look elegant and threatening at the same time. Vivienne manages it." I point out. "But really, you should come with me and we can find something to add some flair to your armor."

She flushes a little and turns her face away for a moment. "I…am not very feminine. It would not suit me."

And _that's_ when I stop in the middle of the street and grab her elbow to pull her to a halt. "You're not feminine? By what standards?"

Her shoulders creep up a bit and she frowns. "Everyone's. Look at me. Tall, broad shouldered…muscular." She glances down at herself. "I have never wanted to be a lady, but it was never a path that would suit me, regardless."

"Alright. Drop the sack." I snap and point down at the ground, and she does so immediately, flushing in surprise and embarrassment. "We're going to a boutique. Cole can help the guys take the clothes to the ship to stow away."

"Yes." Cole steps into reality behind Cassandra and she jolts, her hand going to her sword but not drawing it. "They will need them."

"Let's go, kid." Varric walks past Cole with his sack hefted high on his shoulder. "I'll tell you some stories while we walk."

Solas pauses to send me a look. I can't really tell what he's thinking, but then- I never can when it doesn't have to do with canon events and even then…

They walk off toward the docks and I grasp Cassandra's gauntlet to lead her toward the market district.

 

* * *

 

Cassandra POV

The dresses she tries on flatter her figure magnificently.

I glance at myself in the mirror and take in how awkward and bulky I look in the black and gray dress she picked out for me. It makes me cringe…though I do love the way the lace looks against the skin around my bust. It almost makes me seem softer. But lace alone…

"Cassie, quit that." Nik has noticed my negativity somehow. It almost seems as though she can divine my thoughts. She huffs a sigh at my expression of melancholy and steps down off the tailor's stool. "Look, I'm going to tell you something."

The tailor returns and she steps back onto the stool, motioning me over.

I walk over to stand before her, looking up into those mysterious eyes with so much inside them. Anger turns them sharp and dark. Affection makes them soft and warm. I have not seen much more than that. She tends to be one or the other.

She takes a deep breath and gives me a smile. "Femininity is a concept that was created by society." She tilts her head back, allowing the tailor to measure her throat for the choker she wants made. "Beauty, however- has no precise meaning or explanation. There can be beauty in anything."

"What does this have to do with me?" I sigh and rake my fingertips through my hair. She had me take my braid out so she could pin my hair up but she hasn't gotten to that yet. I can slick it back on my head but it keeps wanting to drop into my face. "There is beauty in everything, but most would call me _handsome_." My cheek tics.

"That's because they perceive your strength to be a masculine trait." She rolls her eyes. "Because women can't be strong, and so if a woman _is_ strong, it's because they're behaving as a male. It's all bullshit."

"I don't understand." Many of the things she speaks of, they make sense. Reasons for equality- logical. Reasons for freeing the mages and making them allies rather than enemies- perhaps not advisable but understandable. Her explanations of social things, gender things…I do not…

"Okay." She purses her lips. "The Avvar." She holds up a hand and allows the tailor to take her measurements for a pair of gloves. "Their women fight. Their men cook meals. And while there are some ways of life of theirs that I would disagree with…" She makes a face, and I quite agree. "It's still an example of a culture in which the gender expectations are different. To the Avvar, you'd be a great bride and warrior because of your beauty and your ferocity both."

I huff and cross my arms. "I would be palatable to barbarians then."

"Don't call them that." Her eyes pierce me, her voice quiet in a way it only is when she is angry. "They are people with thoughts of their own. Just because their way of life is different, it's no reason to look down on them."

I feel like a child scolded by her mother, it is never a good feeling. "They dress in furs and paint." I plant my feet and cross my arms tighter. "They consort with demons-"

"We've agreed to disagree on that matter." Nik says. "But I'm warning you right now. Quit insisting they're all the same." She tilts her head and narrows her eyes at me. "I know you just want something simple and easy to understand, but _nothing_ in life is simple. Least of all Spirits and Demons."

"Even Solas admits they are the same thing!" I exclaim, arms dropping to my sides while my fists clench.

"Solas has a different meaning for the words." She sighs and rubs her face. "Demon is meant to mean, Spirit whose nature would be harmful. Spirit is meant to mean, Demon whose nature is innocuous or helpful." She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. " _Anyway_. What I was trying to say is: Just because other people say something is beautiful, doesn't make it so. And just because they don't see the beauty in something, doesn't mean it's not there."

She steps down off the stool again and reaches up to cup my chin and tilt my head down toward her. "You have beautiful features, Cassandra. And being a warrior and not liking dresses doesn't have to mean you have to completely eschew everything considered feminine." She purses her lips. "But do you want to be feminine, or beautiful? They _are_ two different things, Cassie."

I can feel the blood under my skin rush to my face. It always does so whens he calls me thus. I have never had a friend who was a woman without…some kind of schism between us. They would look down on me for my manly ways, and I would look down on them for being soft cowards.

I look down at the woman before me, and I have no doubt she would rush into battle to save someone if she had to. She has that surety in her eyes, in her stance. She always immediately puts herself between Varric and Solas and danger.

"I like lace…" I mutter and reach up to finger the lace around the neckline as she releases my chin. "And black."

"Then I'm going to show you how to make feminine beauty and warrior beauty one and the same." Her eyes glitter with that promise and I find myself eager to know what she means. A warmth spreading from my chest and my cheeks, something pleasant and soft that I have never known before.

The hope that I will be beautiful without having to sacrifice who I am. I have always been disappointed before…

"Show me." But I hope this time will be different.


	41. Solas POV

It pains me to admit that these robes are more comfortable and versatile than my usual attire.

The robe itself is slit far enough up the back that it doesn't restrict my movements. In fact each side of the robe is connected, albeit loosely, to each of my legs. Not only is it warmer, but the weave is much thicker and denser while also being comparable to my preferred garb in weight.

I am certain she had this made and tailored specifically for me. The expression on her face when she gave it to me made it apparent that she thought my objections amusing for some reason.

" _Rebelling, righteous._ " Cole appears at my side and I welcome the brush of Fade Energy he releases as he becomes visible. "If you didn't like it, you would say so _._ " He informs me.

We're waiting for Varric just outside a shop. Dwarves are less likely to be shoved about or given higher prices than elves. And I do not think Cole quite knows how money works.

I roll my eyes, something I hadn't realized I'd picked up until this moment, honestly. It pauses me for just a moment. "I did express my dislike of the robes." Though to be quite honest it was the thought of being paraded about in front of the Clerics like a token.

"You asked questions, but you didn't say no." Cole responds, surprising me. "You say no when it's important."

Sighing and admitting to myself that perhaps he is correct, I respond. "She made these herself, didn't she?"

"The tailor told her to be careful and she freed her blood." He pantomimes a slice across his palm. "Now the tailor doesn't let her touch anything anymore."

A chuckle rolls up through my throat, surprising me as it always does. She does the most unexpected things. "I see." It must have happened quite a while ago, as Nik hasn't had an injury to her hand for some time that I haven't been privy to.

"Hey, Chuckles!" Varric walks over to us, a small sack in hand. "I've got lunch. We should go find Schemer and the Seeker."

Varric seems to have taken to Cole quite quickly and easily. He discusses a variety of topics with the young man ranging from innocuous personal questions to reality and it's difference from the Fade and even simply asking what the Fade is like in person.

I have asked my own share of questions, though the subject matter was more focused.

'Where did you meet Nik?'

'Why did you cross the Veil?'

'Would it not be safer to return?'

Of course the answers were…

'She didn't know _me_ before, but she always knew me.'

'I wanted to help.'

'I couldn't help anyone there.'

It would seem that Cole met Nik in the Fade, in dreams or something to that effect. Perhaps he speaks of her not knowing him in his human form…but she called him by a name rather than his nature.

And of course, from a spirit of Compassion, I should have expected him to want to linger here. Interacting directly has much more of an effect on others than visiting them in dreams.

"So I was telling this guy, Hawke _absolutely_ killed a Dragon with help from only a healer and an elven warrior, because Aveline got hurt on the way out there so she wasn't-" Varric gestures as he tells a story about telling a story, and it is amusing to watch.

" _I feel so free._ " Cole's eyes widen, reciting thoughts not his own. " _The lace is luscious, luxurious- it makes me soft._ "

"Ehhh." Varric looks up at Cole with his head tilted. "What?"

We pause in the doorway of the tailor shop Nik pointed out to us earlier as the place she bought new attire and arranged for…ah.

Cassandra has been transformed. Nik is standing beside her with an approving look on her face…

Nik's hair has been pinned back, the ends curled around her shoulders. Eyes painted in black, lips stained dark red.

She is wearing a dark green dress with a black skirt layered over the green one. It is not too short, or obscene. Still my eyes trace over the hemline and below-

When Varric clears his throat, I nearly startle.

"Well. Lookin' good, Seeker." He chuckles. "That's a new style."

Ah, yes.

I glance over the Seeker's attire as she lifts her chin- skin flushing pink but not becoming bashful.

A black lace bodice with armor clasped around her torso. From the hip down her dress has been cut into black and gray strips- and they have been braided. There is a very precise way the braids are layered and the differing lengths of them create a pointed curve from the mid-point between her knees up to each hip.

She is wearing pants underneath the braided skirt and there is armor there as well. Metal boots, armor on her thighs, shins, forearms and shoulders…she is wearing lace gloves that stretch up to her elbows, as well.

"Isn't she ravishing?" The Orlesian tailor comes out of the back of the shop with a small collection of hair clips in her hands. "But it is not complete, Your Worship!"

There are two other servants, putting away jars of face paint, combs and curlers.

"Oh, you're right." Nik takes the clips and pulls the Seeker down by her shoulder to clip the small gray flowers into place. It seems her hair has also been curled, and pinned close to her head to create a cloud-like effect. "Now…"

She steps back and grins openly. "Perfection!"

The Seeker dips her head and a smile spreads across her face. She seems almost girlish in that moment and it is quite a surprise. It hadn't occurred to me that Cassandra would even _like_ this type of attire. I had assumed she abhorred all fancy dresses as she has expressed a dislike for such things in the past…

Though I suppose this hardly counts as a dress. It suits her.

We leave the tailor's shop and head in the direction of the Chantry. Master Tethras is taking this chance to question the Seeker on a myriad of topics he normally wouldn't dare touch. He seems to be emboldened by the Seeker's good mood.

"I wish to ask you a question." I walk near Nik, with Cole on her other side.

She glances over and blinks wide eyes at me, made to appear wider with the black eye-paints. "Uh…okay."

Always so surprised that anything about herself could be a mystery to me. "You dressed the Seeker and I much more opulently and stylishly than yourself." Her initial dress was understated, the colors of the Inquisition. This one is different but no less simple.

She frowns and opens her mouth.

Cole speaks before she can. " _Why does everything look different from the outside? Why can't everyone see what I see?_ "

Her arm snakes out to grasp his shoulder. "Focus it inward, Cole."

I wouldn't normally condone stifling a spirit, but Haven will be treacherous for him if he spends any time at all being visible. It would be better for him to control himself…still it chafes me.

Nik turns to me and sighs, gesturing at him. "Well, you heard him. Everyone sees things differently outside my head."

I know what she is implying, but things are rarely so simple with her. "And?"

Her lips purse and she dips her head. "They wouldn't see that you prefer simpler clothes so you can fade into the background." Her eyes meet mine and it is almost enough to shock me. "They'd just see that the elf is the worst-dressed in the party and jump to the conclusion that I'm just like all of them. Even with you in fine clothes they'll probably still think that. But at least now…"

Eyes darting away from mine, her head lifts a bit higher and her body language becomes straighter. "Now they will see that when given a chance, I always treat you and Varric the same as Cassandra. And there will never be a 'when did this start' moment in their minds because I'll have always _been_ this way. No one will look deeper because they won't think there's anything to see."


	42. Chapter 42

Standing outside the Chantry and facing a bunch of people who'd come to gawk at the famed Herald of Andraste, I smile.

They'd tried to disperse as we left the place, but I told them they were free to stay and ask me whatever they wanted to know.

Cassandra was a bit tense at that, Solas got this smirk on his face and Varric just shook his head and sighed. Vivienne obviously approved, with that little twinkle in her eye. Sera just blew a raspberry and sat down on the cobblestones. She's probably been waiting on us a while since she wasn't allowed to come into the Chantry.

Apparently, she's been banned. I know Sera'd never do anything sacrilegious to the Chantry, she's Andrastian…but Priests are just people, and arrogant people at that.

Cole is…around somewhere.

One of the braver nobles steps forward, his mask delicate looking. "I would like to know…is it true?"

I tilt my head to the side and blink. "Which part? Sealing rifts, I can do." I lift my left hand and show them the mark glowing at the center of it.

A lot of them flinch or shiver or even take a step back.

"As for the whole, 'Herald of Andraste' thing-" I laugh a little and shrug. "I don't know."

A lot of people look a little put off. Though there are some who just look relieved.

"I mean, who can comprehend the mind of a god or a Saint?" I ask with a small smirk. "Whether I was or was not chosen by Andraste- by dint of your very beliefs, I must have been put here for a reason. Same as all of you."

A woman on the fringes of the crowd calls out, "Are you nobility or commoner?"

I feel my smile grow a little because… "Both and neither." I was middle class in America. Lower middle class, but still middle class.

"That is not an answer." One of the people up front huffs. "Tell us who you are!"

"Okay." My eyebrows lift and I tilt my head. "My name is Nik. I have been thrust into a role I was not originally prepared for, but I intend to see this endeavor through to the end." Rolling my head until I can hear my neck pop, I sigh. "The Breach has been stabilized for now, but that doesn't mean it can't start expanding again. The rifts are enough of a nuisance on their own with the demons popping out of them- but there is another danger."

I begin pacing around the small space between us and the crowd of onlookers. Some of them look intriged, some irritated with me and a LOT of them look suddenly afraid.

"The person who started all this and caused the Breach to begin with." Pausing, I turn my body to face them and hold my hands to my sides, palms up. "We know where to start looking for them, but they are extremely dangerous. The reason they did this is a mystery still, but we know it killed many people."

There's a sudden pall of gloom over the crowd.

Nodding solemnly, I go on. "Yes. The Divine and all those people at the Conclave. Friends, lovers, family…all gone. Which means this enemy is willing and able to destroy thousands of lives for his ambitions."

"Wasn't it mages who killed the Divine?" There's a woman in the crowd, with a hood pulled over her head. "The clerics have said as much."

I recognize that voice, and the test that lies in the question. ' _I'm going to_ _ **strangle**_ _Roderick_ '

"No, actually." I respond. "I know everyone thinks all mages are the same, but those of you who know Madame Vivienne and her loyalists…" I gesture to the side.

Vivienne steps forward with a delicate amount of poise on her face. She met us at the Chantry before we went in. She's oddly civil toward Solas. I didn't know what would happen if I sent him, but I could just remember how much fun he has being 'courtly' and couldn't _not_ send him.

"You know that isn't true." I incline my head to Vivienne and cede the floor for a moment.

She looks out at the people and lifts her own chin. "My mages and I seek to restore the Circles. We have no part in the Rebellion or any attack on the Conclave. In fact, many of my people have been healing all of you when you come back from your Estates in the Dales with injuries."

There are rifts in Orlais. Not just the Dales but Val Royeax, other cities nearby- all over the place.

There's also a couple in Nevarra, Antiva, Rivain- everywhere in Thedas. I guess not being able to travel there in-game was just a limitation of making the game.

Vivienne turns to look at me. "The Herald has consented to allow me to join her organization and I believe we must look past all of our differences to put the world to rights again."

Very heartfelt and pointed. I told her I would help her out in rebuilding _a_ circle. By which I meant a college of enchanters. All her Loyalists and anyone else who wanted that cloistered lifestyle could go there. But any mages that didn't want that, would be mine.

I grin a little. "In fact, I encourage us all to _embrace_ our differences." Turning to the crowd and inclining my head, "Mages as a people were not responsible for this. There are gangs made up of warriors, rogues and mages alike. Do not equate one warrior to all warriors, and not one mage to all mages." Sighing and feeling a little put off by all the tension in the air… "It was not mages who killed the Divine. It was a man in command of mages."

There's a murmur over the crowd. I can feel Cassandra stepping up behind me.

"I will not lie to you." I declare. "It would be stupid to do so, as obviously some kind of magic was used…" Turning and pointing to the Breach, "to make that."

The people begin asking what I intend to do with the rebel mages, now that the subject has come up. But it's in a large tumultuous wave of noise and movement.

Lifting my hands and signaling for silence, I let the mark sputter a little bit. I don't know how it knows right when I need it, but that's helpful.

There's that pall of fear and hesitation again, making everyone fall silent as their eyes lock on my mark.

"The Rogue mages are not all one people, either." I inform them. "A lot of them were forced into rebelling, and many of them only rebelled because they felt threatened in the Circles."

"The Circles were built to protect mages!" A noblewoman in finer clothes than any I've seen today. Lacy, elaborate… "And to protect us!"

I nod. "That's what you were told."

Vivienne glances aside at me.

"Regardless of what the Circles in Orlais are like, I would like to remind you all that every country has a couple and they're _all_ different." Pursing my lips, I look into the noblewoman's eyes. "In Ferelden, it was quite commonplace for the mages to be raped and beaten. For nothing."

A shocked silence rather than a fearful one. No one expects anyone to just come out and say it.

"I agree that mages hold a responsibility to learn to control their magic." My lips curl into a half-smile. "But my way of training them would not be the same as the Circles. Instead I would train them to have pride in their control. In their knowledge and the application of that knowledge. I would help the mages to create things that are truly wondrous and helpful to all sentient beings of Thedas."

"Such as?" The noblewoman in the lacy dress.

"Such as this." I step forward, grinning.

I'm wearing a black skirt that I brought from Haven. I was intending to wear it around and show people the function of the thing.

So now, I shimmy my hips and my skirt glitters with green light. Matching my dress.

There's an audible gasp going over the crowd. The women look at me with anger, awe and envy. The men just seem kinda quiet and gape at me.

I grin a little at that reaction. "I had my mages and tailors work together on this. I have a lot of designs for dresses, pantsuits and the like…if you'd like to order any, I'm sure the Inquisition representatives in the area would be happy to take down your information."


	43. Chapter 43

So, introducing Sera and Vivienne to Cole went well. Right before getting on the ship to head back to Haven.

The entire trip back was fraught with tension, fear and anger. Tension on the part of myself and Vivienne, fear on the part of Sera and anger from Cassandra, Varric and even once from Solas when everything just got to be too much for them.

Sera, Cassandra and Vivienne shared a cabin on the ship while Solas, Varric and Cole shared another.

I preferred to sleep in the stock room, far away from everyone so I wouldn't snap at anyone if I happened to get woken up by anyone snoring or talking in their sleep. I wanted to be fresh when I got up so I could have patience with Sera and have the wherewithal to deal with Vivienne.

Before leaving, Grand Enchanter Fiona approached us, but didn't reveal her face until she could get me alone away from the others. I got really disapproving looks from Solas _and_ Cassandra for that one. But, now we know what's up with the mages and that we need to move on it, as fast as possible.

Fiona instructed me not to trust the Templars I was saving, though she commented that since I had ferreted out a demon posing as their leader, perhaps I didn't need to be told that. I asked her if there was anything I could do to help the rebels and she obviously had second thoughts about offering for me to come to Redcliffe.

But she did ask, and I did accept.

If we can get there quick enough to make Corypheus pause his plans to attack Haven in favor of possibly capturing or destroying me- then maybe we can save the mages, too.

Now, we're almost to Haven. Thank god.

Just up the road, on a bunch of horses we traded out at the last Inquisition camp we stopped by. They're fresh but they need new shoes, so it makes sense to send them up to Haven with us, where they can get them. My whole rotation system is really working out.

"Oi, quit lookin' at me!" Sera snaps.

My head drops, chin almost knocking my breastbone.

"I can't see the ends." Cole replies from atop his horse, looking a bit distant and confused. "Everything is moving."

"She doesn't require help if it's not bound up, right?" I cut in before it can become something loud and angry on Sera's end. "When she _does_ needs help, wait for her to ask for it. It shows respect."

"And it's normal and not friggin' weird…" Sera mutters.

"To you, Sera." I turn a bit and send her a small smile. "To a Qunari, a female warrior is weird. To a Ferelden, blood magic is abhorrent. And to Orlesians, your absolute irreverence for everything and everyone is weird."

She scrunches up her face. "So what?"

"So. To Fereldens and Orlesians- women warriors are a normal everyday thing. You yourself are a woman who fights." I patiently explain. As patiently as I can with all the tension binding up my body. "To Tevinters, blood magic is a normal everyday thing. And to Fereldens, irreverence isn't all that weird."

Turning back forward and shrugging my shoulders, I go on. "To Cole, what he does _is_ normal. What _you_ do is weird. Just think of him being from another country and he still has to learn the customs."

"Fade's not a country. S'just a place for nightmares and magick-y shite-"

I whip back around and her ears flick back on her head at the look on my face. I can't tell what I look like, I've basically gone numb there. "Sera. I'm not asking you to love the Fade or Spirits. I'm not even asking you to openly accept that they can be good. I'm asking you to get to know him before you judge him- and to be less like the Noble assholes who take one glance at your pointed ears and assume you're beneath them."

And then I turn back around and lightly tap my horse's sides enough to get him loping smoothly up the path to Haven.

Everyone has to keep up with me, of course- but they wisely leave two or three horse-lengths of space between me and them.

When we get close enough that we can usually see the front gates of Haven…we instead see a small grouping of soldiers on horses in Orlesian armor with Orlesian banners of some kind…

The Soldiers and Scouts are standing between them and the walls, and there's an uneasy air about it all.

I halt my horse and wait for my companions to come abreast of me. Taking a deep breath, I announce- "If they're here to declare war or hurt the people, I give you full rights to blow their asses to smithereens, Sera."

A small, uneven laugh from the blonde and Cole sways on his saddle next to me.

"They want Haven back." The spirit says, voice distressed. "They want everyone to leave, but they can't!"

"Want it _back_?" Cassandra looks at Cole from a few horses over. "The DuRellions? They gave Haven to the Divine!" She must recognize the standards. Probably was with Justinia when the DuRellions gave her Haven.

"Why do they want it back, can you tell?" Varric nudges Cole from beside him, balancing a little perilously in his saddle.

Cole shakes his head. "I hear all of them, but I don't know which one is the man with the mask." Referring to the noble's mask, I'm sure.

"Why don't we just go up and ask them?" I mutter and tap my horse into motion. "Everyone behind me but Cassandra."

…

The soldiers parted for us, very reluctantly and only after I told them who we were.

Now, I remember that DuRellion isn't a bad guy. His wife died and he's worried the Inquisition is blaspheming and using his land to do so. He's allowed to be upset and even a bit wary.

But if he's different here, and demands we leave even with all our people in danger of freezing and starving…I dunno, I just might let Leliana handle it. You don't _do_ shit like that to innocent civilians.

I _know_ my villagers. A lot of them by name and still others by nickname and profession. Seggrit, Harritt, Adan, Flissa, Maeve, Maura and Viva...all of the kids in the orphanage. _My_ kids.

My bakers, my tailors, my soldiers, my scouts- I know I'll be Inquisitor if I can make it past the destruction of Haven. Which means all these people are _mine_. Under my protection. My responsibility.

So, putting aside my anxiety and inner bristling at the suggestion that the soldiers would be prepared to chase us out- I ask Master Dennet to see to their horses as well as ours. I tell the servants to bring those weird spool-looking tables, set food and drink on them and then offer it to the soldiers.

I even ended up asking Varric to stay and shoot the breeze with them for a while. He just winked at me and grinned, muttering something about how right he always is.

Sera wanted to stay and watch the soldiers too, so I only asked her not to shoot them unless they tried something funny with one of our people. She made a face, but I think that was the fact that I felt the need to ask her that in the first place.

Vivienne drifted off to find the other mages in Haven, suspecting some of them may be loyalists lost in the rush of everything. I don't mind if she surrounds herself with like-minded peers, but I did warn her that forcing my people into her ways of behavior would not be tolerated. Her only answer was an incline of her chin before sweeping off toward the Healer's cabins.

Blackwall was in the area watching the soldiers while sharpening his sword and shook his head at me when I glanced over. So he'll stay where he is, then.

Cole, Cassandra, Solas and I walk up to the Chantry together and only pause outside when I catch a glimpse of…

"Cassandra, that man is unfamiliar. And he doesn't look like one of the soldiers outside." I point to the mercenary who is obviously Cremisius Aclassi, who is trying in vain to speak with Clerics who just keep answering him shortly. I can see his frustration from here, and the strain in him to keep being polite. "Do you think Josephine sent for some Mercenaries? We were looking for hirelings…"

"I will see what he wants, Herald." Cassandra takes the cue. But pauses on her way over. "Cole. Stay with me." She says, to my surprise.

Cole blinks at her. "I wouldn't hurt him."

"I would feel better if you did not go near him." She responds, her eyes shifting over his face.

It's an odd stand off and after a long moment, Cole nods. "I will come."

They walk off toward Krem and I give Solas a look. "I think I can trust her not to kill him but I'm a little…"

"Cole would make her forget him and disappear if it became necessary." Solas says, gesturing at the Chantry. "It would be wise to hurry, as we are not certain what terms are being decided upon for the use of Haven."

That gets my brain whirring and my feet moving simultaneously. Like _hell_ anybody's going to force us into agreeing to anything, I don't give a fuck- I'll just fucking take everyone to the goddamn Redoubt after it's been cleaned up and all the Templars have been rescued and claim the land.

Speaking of, Cullen should still be there leading soldiers to try and do just that. We sent him the information and the directive to find and rescue what Templars were left in the Redoubt after I destroyed Envy. I had to have the local Soldiers work with the Chevaliers and lock up the Templars there until we could determine how many of them were possessed or corrupted by red Lyrium.

He should be back in a week or two, last I heard. Still trying to destroy lingering traces of red Lyrium and helping the Templars recover from the fighting.

Solas and I push open the doors of the Chantry and walk in on a rather heated argument.

Everyone in the Chantry pauses to glance at me. Mother Giselle with Leliana and Josephine as well as a man in a mask- with a skinnier man beside him, apparently taking notes.

Sighing and shaking my head, I say with some humor, "the first time I leave for someplace further than the Hinterlands and there's an army outside Haven."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying not to gloss over too much, but illustrating everything in this story would really slow me up. So I'm just gonna leave some moments for my New Bits which I haven't really written much on or posted anything up for yet, but I'll get to it eventually.


	44. Chapter 44

I hadn't expected politeness to this degree or even any calm conversation. I expected anger, sadness or fear- maybe some kind of demand. In fact, Messere DuRellion is a delight.

After showing him the orphanage and introducing him to a few refugees, he agreed we needed to keep Haven. He expressed his doubts about whether I was the Herald and I agreed with him.

After that, he was much more eager to speak with me on many matters. Including the Conclave and the murder of the Divine as well as many other issues springing up in Orlais.

So, I offered to become allies. He would help us gain a foothold in Orlais to the best of his ability and the Inquisition would openly support him- so long as he didn't do anything too crazy.

I laid down the law on that guy. Seriously, gesturing and ticking off points, the whole nine yards. If he committed murder and it wasn't for noble purpose, I wouldn't support him. Likewise with rape and other such crimes.

He actually seemed to respect me a little by the time he left with his incredibly happy and jovial men. Even offered to send me soldiers if I were ever to require assistance in Orlais.

Josephine expressed discontentment with the fact that it took her at least six hours to talk him down from a tizzy and it only took me _one_ to make an alliance and leave a lasting good first impression. Of course I told her that I could only do that _because_ she talked him down from his tizzy but she still seemed a little pouty. It was adorable.

We'll be leaving for Redcliffe in two days with a plan to head out to the Storm Coast afterwards. I know the first encounter isn't when everything happens, but the possibility that Corypheus could be claiming the mages while we traipse off to find Bull is a little anxiety-inducing.

I started talking with Leliana seriously about an embassy over in Val Royeax or somewhere nearby as a result of all my worrying and planning paranoia. I know what's coming soon and it can't hurt to lay some groundwork in all areas.

"I'm not sure if it would be wise." Leliana coos to the baby in her lap. "To plant such a flag in Orlais. We would need someone competent to run it, to begin with," she says, eyes flicking up to mine.

I grin at the way Viva scrunches her face at Leliana and tries to reach up and tug at her hair. "I think Messere DuRellion would be helpful in that area. He may have someone within his own household or in the ranks of his soldiers who'd be willing to oversee martial operations. As for an ambassador or whatever, we could ask Josie to find someone young and fresh but talented. She'd know."

Josephine is in touch with a lot of Orlesian Nobles and their children would probably jump at the chance to distinguish themselves and gain influence.

The spymaster's smile is small and soft and her eyes are filled with loving warmth as she plays with Viva. It's a nice look for her. She's ten times as beautiful as usual this way.

Miera is making arrangements to move into the orphanage. I asked her to oversee the raising of the kids after finding out that one of the sisters we had doing it was calling the little elves things I didn't want them hearing. Fucking bitch.

Anyway, Miera is much softer and gentler and is just happy her baby is still alive. She'll work extra hard because she believes it's a miracle of the Maker and Andraste but whatever- the kids'll be taken care of.

I had to sit down and answer all the kids questions and reaffirm the fact that being an elf was not a 'bad thing' like they'd been told it was. I even had to reassert my authority and tell the human kids that treating the elven kids badly would end in swift punishment of writing lines. I swear to god, I want to flog that woman.

I had her sent off to the Crossroads to do chores and help the people there and she was instructed not to speak to anyone until she got back. She was supposed to be under a vow of silence, but we'll see if that lasts. Leliana was _incensed_ and the first to offer her Scouts to watch the Sister, so that was reassuring.

"Perhaps." Leliana sighs and stands, shifting Viva into her arms. "I still have my misgivings about your ideas for the Nobles of Orlais…" Her hair is on display since her hood is down and I admire the way it glimmers in the torchlight. I really want to mix up some paint for her but I'm too busy today to paint anything.

"You know I wouldn't stoop to this level ordinarily." I walk over to stand in front of her and pet Viva's curly dark hair. "But if we want to enact change in Orlais, we need a few key Nobles in our pockets. We need the unsavory folks who'd normally stand against us. Blackmail is the way to go, as we can't really bribe them or anything."

"I agree it is sound strategy." She looks up into my eyes with a certain suspicion. "But it seems wrong."

"It is." I admit, readily. "But I'm willing to do wrong to do right, so long as it's not a heinous act. And before you ask, I consider 'heinous' to be murdering people. Not defending yourself or assassinating a person who hurt others, but just straight up killing someone who pissed you off." I smile and take Viva from Leliana as she starts fussing. "I believe 'heinous' to be the line that Nobles cross when their power overcomes their responsibility to their people."

"I see." She sighs and flips her hood up over her hair. Awww. "Justinia thought much the same, albeit…less criminally than that."

"I bet." My sardonic amusement is apparent, I'm sure. "I probably would've scandalized her if she'd known me better."

We share a short laugh and Miera comes in the door of Josie's office with Josie not far behind her.

"Oh! Let me hold her!" Josephine drops a small sack of clinking metals on her Chaise and walks over to take Viva from me. Her face is bright with a radiant smile as she turns to Miera with little Viva in her arms. "She's beautiful and looks healthier every time I see her."

"Thank you, Lady Montilyet. I am keeping up with the Herald's diet and it seems to do wonders for Viva." Miera reaches out and takes Viva from a now-pouting Josephine. "Now, I just need to take her to see grandpa and grandma one of these days." She giggles and the baby burbles back at her. Her eyes meet mine after a moment of silence and an air of seriousness enters her, though she still smiles. "I told them not to expect anything…and now, I have to show them!"

I smile and respond, "I'm sure we could find some way to arrange for a short vacation to see them soon."

Her smile is brilliant as she leaves the office. "I am off to start the lessons!"

"Herald." Josephine addresses me after Miera leaves. "I brought the samples you wanted, but only two samples of Dawnstone and Dawnstone and Viridium…it is extremely expensive…"

"That's fine. I was most interested in Dawnstone on its own, the Viridium is just a good…" I pull out two said samples and stare at the second. "Contrast."

It's absolutely breathtaking to look at. It's Dawnstone threaded with Viridium, so it's pink with a greenish gold vein running through the whole sample. Like golden lightning caught in a pink piece of glass…

"I was thinking we could make it into jewelry." Josephine looks over my shoulder. "It could be quite the rage in Orlais- this particular mixture in this particular process…well, it's too brittle to use for weaponry."

"I would buy the earrings, necklace _and_ hairpins." Leliana comes over my other shoulder to comment.

I'm sure a lot of people will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Edited to replace Maura with Miera-- two different women, but I got their names mixed up.
> 
> You know, I was wondering something.
> 
> Do any of you have any interest in commissioning me? It never really occurred to me that anyone would before now, but if there's any interest in that, please let me know.
> 
> EDIT: By commission me, I mean for writing.
> 
> Short stories, drabbles.
> 
> Poems, even.
> 
> Here's a link to look at for my info on Commissions. http://rikadivani.tumblr.com/post/153749228494/commissions


	45. Varric POV, Solas POV

Schemer charms Nobles like it just comes second nature.

Says what she thinks, has actual _discussions_ that never go beyond passionate tones to raised voices. I dunno _how_ she keeps the Nobles so in line while also calling them on their bullshit, but somehow…

Somehow she always ends up with the better end of the deal and most of 'em leave smiling.

"You lose nothin' by just comin' to see, so he figured it wouldn't hurt to ask." A mercenary in some pretty good-looking armor named Cremisius Aclassi. Clean-cut with a Tevene accent. "I'm a little surprised you agreed so quick, though." He's personable, as far as mercenaries go. Hell, as far as most _people_ go, period.

Schemer grins and scratches some more little scribbles and notes onto her notepad. "You're offering to help, which is a lot more than any other merc bands have done. That's interesting." Her eyes catch his and that scar turns her smile into a half-smirk. She looks self-satisfied all the time.

It's a good look for her.

"Well." I give the kid a good long look, and dub him... "Soldier boy. Why don't you tell us what _you_ can do?"

Schemer snorts, probably at my unoriginality. ' _They can't all be masterpieces, Schemer._ '

"I'm one of the Chief's bruisers. I get up close and personal with the enemy," he says.

"How about you accompany us to Redcliffe and show off a little?" Schemer says. "I'm taking Blackwall, Sera and Solas with me. You should get along with all of them even if they can't get along with each other." She's muttering by the end.

"Buttercup and Chuckles are just built to butt heads, Schemer." I know this is really putting her in a weird position, and it seems to almost _offend_ her that she can't make them understand each other.

Or as she puts it, can't make them 'agree to disagree'.

She pouts, scribbling a little doodle of a bow and arrow with some flames on the arrow. "I know, but…I expected better from him…" She trails off with a small shiver to her mouth. Like she wanted to say more, but can't.

Solas is her Arcane Advisor- she actually got him titled and made part of the War Council meetings. He seemed a little leery of the attention, but she didn't try making any announcements or anything so he relaxed pretty quick on that.

He's also a guy she's into for reasons she can't really explain to me. She's tried. She's tried _really_ hard to explain it to me. But it seems to just be this inexplicable thing she can't put in words.

Meanwhile Sera's a new ally with a lot of influence just about everywhere. She could get us information and warm bodies to do tasks that our spies _can't_ in places we can't even get near. And she really seems to respect Sera's whole thing about people being people and Nobles being assholes.

Though she can never really let a hypocritical comment toward the Kid go by without calling Buttercup on it. Which just makes the blonde elf go quiet and pouty. It helps that she's stopped snapping- that was a surprise- and just makes gentle suggestions, now.

The whole issue is that Chuckles can't let the fact that Buttercup doesn't care about being an elf, go. His 'elfy' identity means a lot to him and it's hard to just acknowledge that things that are important to you, just aren't to other people.

Cause it hurts.

"Well, it's not like he's _tryin'_ to be an ass." Patting Schemer's arm and lifting my tankard, I gesture at the doorway we can see Chuckles's cabin through from this angle. "Chuckles just lives in the past. It's safe there, and nobody can get hurt because everything already happened there."

Her expression crumples up and she bows her head. "I know. I'm trying to bring him out of it, but nothing I do…wakes him up." There's a sad twist to her smile, almost like she's trying to make a joke. It falls a little flat, but I get it.

"Maybe _that's_ the problem." I sigh. "If the guy is always in the Fade, lookin' through memories- he can't really connect with the world _now_."

She gets a dangerously thoughtful look on her face and smiles at Soldier Boy, who seems to be trying to follow the conversation. "So how about it?"

He shrugs. "If you want me to help you out in Redcliffe before we pick up the Chief, I can do that." His eyes flick over her hair and face when she looks down at her notepad. "Be happy to…show off."

Schemer completely misses the attempt at flirting and just says, "great! We can tell Cassandra that she can stay and focus on the troops while we're gone. She didn't want to leave me without another warrior to watch my back."

Soldier boy looks a little wry, but gives it another shot. "We could get to know each other better."

She looks excited at that. "You can tell me about Tevinter!"

I almost sigh. I'm gonna have to nudge the Soldier boy in another direction. Schemer's too focused on Chuckles and Chuckles _needs_ the focus if he's ever gonna pull his head out of his ass.

* * *

 

Solas POV

It was a bit frightening in its own way, to see her that irritable.

She became progressively worse over time as we traveled on the boat, to the point of sequestering herself in the cargo and sleeping on crates. Which didn't allow as peaceful a night's sleep as she requires to be functional. Though I doubt she's noticed how much it impacts her productivity and mood.

As it is, I highly doubt anyone but I could even tell she was reaching the end of her patience. She is very accomplished at hiding her ire and putting herself aside for others.

After snapping at Sera, we expected her to be irritated with everything. I could see the same surprise within me written on all their faces when she shifted from irritable to gracious. Addressing the soldier's of our invading force with kindness and bidding them welcome.

It seems that the sight of the new challenge of endearing herself to the noble and keeping everyone happy while she did so was enough to make her forget her tiredness and irritation for a while.

But once he'd left- she didn't seem to remember it then, either.

She addressed Sera with kindness and understanding, expressing apologies for being short with her. The young elf didn't seem to quite believe she was apologizing for something she likely thought to be trivial. I could see the intrigue light Sera's eyes as she looked at Nik, and I thought perhaps we had something in common at last.

She is constantly surprising me as well, after all.

After spending half the day in my cabin mixing potions and poultices for Adan, I decide to take some air.

It doesn't take long to reach the front gates of Haven even with everyone stopping me to say hello and ask me how I am. An unfortunate side-effect of being constantly with Nik in the field is that I am well known. I had intended to hide within the Inquisition. Valued but invisible to anyone on the outside.

They greet me with warmth and kindness though I've no illusions. If I were not well known as I am, they would give me no thought at all or view me with distrust, same as the elves and mages in Haven.

I am not surprised to see Cassandra addressing the troops in Cullen's stead, she is quite capable. Blackwall stands nearby, perhaps assisting with training today. We are leaving for Redcliffe tomorrow and one hopes he will not exhaust himself before then. Riding is hard enough without full body soreness.

Speaking of…

Nik is with the blacksmiths as I thought she would be. She has been determined to create a niche market for the Inquisition to at least compete in, if not to dominate. She needs funds for the weaponry and research materials for the mages.

Most of the funds for the Inquisition goes to paying the wages of soldiers, buying food and paying her hunting incentives which cuts down on the amount of food they need buy at all…but she has her own allowance and along with her pay, it is usually enough to afford new books for the children's lessons every so often- and even for her own experimental attempts at food and fashion.

"Messere Solas." A child from the orphanage stops me with a tug on my sleeve and I look over with some surprise at the line of them all standing there watching the men work with the Herald. "Can mages be smiths?"

Ah. One of the children who came with the mages, then. I can feel the spark of magic within her, though it has likely not yet showed itself. Another difference from the way the world should have been. Even newborn babes should be able to cast instinctive magic, small as it usually was…

"I see no reason why not." I respond, glancing up and nearly startling when I realize Nik is watching our interaction with slightly narrowed eyes. "I doubt the Herald would disapprove if it is truly what you wish to do."

She walks around the work tables with several loose pages of paper in her hands. "Solas! I was going to go get you if you didn't come out of your cabin soon!" She holds the papers out to me. "I was wondering if you might have some recommendations for these."

I am not a smith, but she knows this. So I look down and lift my brows at the sight of several pages of staff and stave designs as well as swords and daggers with some kind of focus embedded in them. Such a thing would allow a mage to fight in any way they liked without immediately identifying themselves as a mage if they do not wish.

So I purse my lips and hand back the papers. "I believe you would need more than one mage to consult on this."

"I've got like- fifteen of them looking into it right now." She responds, glancing away from my face. She's flushed again. "But you usually use words I can understand."

I frown. "They do not?" I find it hard to believe she could not puzzle it out. She seems to have an instinctive understanding of languages. I am still teaching her Elvhen and she is a quick, attentive pupil.

She bites her lip. "Circle mages are more focused on titling everything magical and otherwise with a proper name than apostates are…I guess."

My eyes roll and it surprises me again. It is fascinating how quickly mannerisms can be passed around. "Of course they are. There is no prestige if anyone else can understand what you are talking about." It is much the same as the Orlesians dressing in expensive outfits and Tevinters buying exotic slaves.

Expressions of status are the same, no matter their scope or scale of harm.


	46. Nik POV, Solas POV

I was a little surprised when he showed up at the smith's but took the opportunity to try and pick his brain.

Solas spent about an hour discussing the designs and why certain pieces would or wouldn't work with what we had in mind- then he derails everything with a simple declaration.

"You need to take the rest of the day off, Herald." The fact that he's using my title means he's serious and it's not just a simple request.

"Uh…mind telling me why?" I ask, lifting a brow.

He shakes his head at me and lifts his hand, a wave of healing magic making me shudder as it sweeps searchingly from my head to my toes. "You may not notice because you are used to the pain by now, but you are overextending yourself. If you do not want to be in excruciating pain by the time we get to Redcliffe, you need to take the day off, allow me to heal you- eat and take potions…" He trails off at the puzzlement on my face. "This is my recommendation as a healer. Riding with your muscles the way they are, overtaxed and aching- it will end badly for you if it gets worse. If I cannot alleviate the ache, it will become a bone-deep pain."

I don't really get it, but he seems pretty anxious about it. "I…dunno what half of that meant. I'm more of the lacerations and blunt force trauma kind of healer," I admit with some embarrassment. "Does it have to be right now? Can I do paperwork?"

He sighs, "yes, now. Paperwork will be fine, but you must be lying down."

"How am I going to do paperwork lying down?" I roll my eyes at his flat look. "Right. Not your problem."

He actually _escorts_ me back to my cabin and brings me two different potions- neither of which I recognize.

"What even are these?" I pop open the mint green one and sniff, finding it pleasantly grassy to smell.

"That one is a muscle relaxant. You need only a swallow." He takes it from me as I finish with it and smirks when I grimace at the little pink vial. "That is for healing and rejuvenation and you need to drink it _all_."

' _Ugh, it looks like pepto_. _'_ I think miserably and pop the seal, tossing back the potion and hoping to god it won't make me gag.

As soon as it's gone, I notice a lingering aftertaste of cherries. Sweet and smooth and…damn. Should've nursed that one.

I hand back that vial and lie back in bed, waiting for them to take effect.

It doesn't take long.

* * *

 

Solas POV

I shouldn't laugh, but it is incredibly difficult not to when she is like this.

"Do you ever think about stuff like, what if life is just a dream that the trees and earth are having or something?" She is staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, muscle relaxant rendering her limp and suggestible.

If I were harder, like I was when I was young and cocky…I would use the opportunity to ask her probing questions.

As it is, I am a curious creature before anything else. It could not hurt to ask one, I am sure. "Nik?"

She hums and turns her head, smiling numbly at me. "What?"

"I wish to ask you a question about your…methods. With people." I tell her. "Would you mind answering?"

She seems to think very hard about it for a long moment, brow scrunched as her eyes dart back and forth as if reading something. "You could ask me anything and I'd tell you." She answers, blinking. "Dunno why you're asking to ask."

Ah. I chuckle a bit at that. "You are not usually sitting still long enough to speak to unless we are traveling and even then we are never alone."

There is some surprise on her face. "You wan' be alone with me?" Incredulous, as if the thought is the most ludicrous thing she's ever heard.

"To talk, yes." My eyes narrow, "why does that surprise you?" She is wholly unguarded and I should cease- I only meant to ask one question…

She frowns and looks back up at the ceiling. "You don't like anybody."

I blink, lips ticking up at one side while my heart sinks for some unknowable reason. "That is not precisely true."

"You like them, but it's not enough." She says, looking at me intensely now. "Because if people don't do it your way, then it's not right and they shouldn't be allowed to."

A shiver works its way up my spine, when I realize I've never held her eyes this long. They are as piercing and direct as Cassandra's or even my own- but there is more there than simple directness or command. There is a deep kind of understanding, not soft or tender but cold and honest. "I…would not quite say that."

She sighs and closes her eyes, a single tear escaping. She tries to wipe it away but her arms are too limp to pull up without expending enough energy to smack herself in the face, so she huffs and drops them. "No one would. Everybody's too defensive to admit they're judgmental and wrong about stuff. I don't know shit, and I tell people that."

I snort without meaning to, but the tears don't go on and she smiles in response. "What am I wrong about, _Da'lath'in_?"

Her expression changes to a pout now, "quit callin' me 'little' things!" She huffs indignantly, cheeks turning pink.

I have attempted to call her _Da'len_ in the past, but she was horrified and begged me not to do it again. Then I attempted to ask _why_ and she refused with a bright red face and sputtering pleas for me to ' _please god, don't ever call me that again_ '.

I see it is the diminutive form of the endearment she is having a problem with. "Ah. You do not like it when the others treat you as young." It is obvious in hindsight.

She is flushing and her eyes are rather glossy as she presses her lips together and glares at the wall beside her. "I'm not immature. I know I'm young, but I know things and understand better than lots of people older than me."

"You do," I acknowledge. "But you yourself know that there are areas in which you are naive."

She sighs, "I know."

I don't quite realize I am smirking until she pouts again. "What?"

"Shut up your smirky face, Solas." She deadpans.

There is a curious reaction every time she tells me this, as it becomes more familiar. She is not insulting or admonishing me, it is simply that she recognizes I am smug about something. Common has so many twists and turns to the terminology and she creates new words all the time by my understanding. Wherever she lived before, they must have spoken this dialect. This mashing of words and…she relies heavily on tone, expression and situation to convey emotion and meaning.

"What am I wrong about?" I wonder if she can recall that far back in our conversation as she seems to search for what I mean.

"You think all people are what they look like." She says, slowly. "Qunari under the Qun must all be subjugating anyone who doesn't want to be in the Qun, but that's not how the Qun works." She is musing now. "They just need to make it so people can leave instead of getting brainwashed to 'fix' themselves." She gives me a glance then, and sees the distaste on my face.

"I take issue with the brainwashing to begin with, _Fenlin_." It flows naturally from my mouth without my direction, I will have to be careful about that.

It fits her in ways I can't describe. A young wolf, ready to take on the world. Only showing her teeth when necessary to protect the pack.

My moniker was given to me as a joke. They called me the Dreaded Wolf, and then simply Dread Wolf as time went on and they realized I was _not_ to be joked about. I do not have much in common with wolves, truly. I was always too quick to show my teeth.

"So do I!" she insists. "I hate cults. But lots of people need structure to feel safe. So you just have to make the structure itself safe, instead of making it disappear."

"What you are talking about is…I have seen similar things." Reformation is an endless struggle that never seems to be completely finished...

"Really?" She blinks. "You'll have to show me some time."

"Show you?" I do not immediately catch her meaning, though the pointed look she gives me tells me I should.

"In the Fade." She flops her hands upward and allows them to fall, smacking her thighs on the way down to the bed.

I laugh and curl my fingers together over my stomach. "Perhaps we will have the chance to do that, sometime soon." After all, it would be… _interesting_ …to see what her dreams look like.


	47. Chapter 47

Vivienne wanted to come to Redcliffe with me, but I explained very _patiently_ that having a loyalist- a _known_ loyalist in our party would probably not endear the rebels to us. She seemed miffed, so I offered for her to travel with us to a nearby Inquisition camp in case I need her for something.

She preened and responded that she would be delighted. And then she said something vaguely insulting about self-trained apostates that I might've snapped at her about if I didn't have such good control over my knee-jerk reactions on my good days.

So here we are. Blackwall, Solas, Krem and Vivienne riding in perfect silence. Cole flitting around somewhere where we can't see him…

I had no idea this combination would be so peaceful. Vivienne isn't picking at Solas because she has no real reason to, yet- and Blackwall and Sera haven't yet become bosom buddies so he hasn't quite defrosted enough to pick at Solas either…

And Krem is just a serene kind of guy unless he's quipping with someone, apparently.

"Solas, my dear…" Vivienne begins and proves the old 'spoke too soon' adage to still be relevant. "I was wondering something about that staff of yours."

My body goes rigid. ' _If she figures out that he usually channels by hand, that'll open up a whole_ _ **6-pack**_ _of worms._ '

"Yes." He answers simply.

Vivienne glances over and lifts a brow. "Yes, what?"

"It is splintering." He replies, giving her a sideways glance. "I noticed you inspecting it earlier. It is."

Obviously he's just trying to shut her up by giving her what she wants, but it doesn't work.

"I must say, I've never seen so much splintering on a staff before." She hums. "How much do you struggle past the damage to the wood to equalize your energy down the length of the staff to the focus?"

He sighs. "I don't."

"It can't be _easy_ to simply bypass the splintering parts, my dear. Your magic doesn't randomly shoot off in the middle of a fight along the length of your staff, does it? Catching everything on fire or…?"

"No, it does not." He responds, a bit testily.

I clear my throat and drum my fingers on the saddle horn. "Vivienne, I've actually been meaning to ask you some things about the Circles."

Vivienne turns to me with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes but a cool expression. "What is it you would like to know, my dear?"

Well, since I'm basically saving Solas and therefore my own sanity- I figure I can open the floodgates on this one.

"Did the mages in your circle have more freedoms than the ones in Ferelden?" I settle a little more comfortably in my seat.

She hums. "You're assuming I know what a Ferelden circle _looks like,_ let alone how it is structured within, my dear."

I 'oh' in understanding and describe it for her. "Stone towers, no doors on the bedrooms unless they're the grand enchanter's quarters or the barracks or knight commander's rooms…"

Her expression doesn't change, but I can tell she's listening closely to me. Thank god.

"Mages are expected to never have sex with each other and if they have relationships, their romantic interest can be used as an incentive to behave or otherwise do whatever a Templar wants." I continue, loosening my jaw when I feel it beginning to tighten up. "So instead of having relationships, most mages in the circles of Ferelden prefer to have trysts and just never get attached to anyone as a defense mechanism."

"That is a bit confusing, my dear." She responds with a quiet authority. "Not allowed to be intimate with each other? I believe you mean they aren't allowed to have children unless under special circumstances."

I give her a very disbelieving look. "No…I mean when they're caught Trysting they're likely to be raped by Templars, beaten by Templars or taken to the Grand Enchanter for a lecture and a special tea that will ensure they _can't_ have children- and that last option doesn't preclude the first two."

There is a sudden silence then, as Vivienne seems to process that information. "I have seen such things…but it…is usually rare, in my experience."

"Not mine." I respond, matter-of-factly. "Everyone's experiences are limited in some way, so it's not surprising. I'm sure there's a lot of stuff I'm just not aware of, that you know."

"Well, in answer to your original question…no, not precisely." She tightens her hands around the reins and breathes in a very controlled manner. "There are doors on the Senior Enchanter's chambers as well as most of the other shared bedrooms, though they can be removed if there is reason to suspect someone is making trouble."

"I know that you're involved with that guy…" I search for his name in my head. "Duke Bastien de Ghislain?"

"Yes." She responds, curiously on guard.

Then I remember how many people said mean things about her, and the guy at her salon who apparently made fun of her for having dark skin. It's not surprising she'd be on guard about that, then.

"Did you become lovers and his influence protected you, or did you gain influence enough to protect yourself first?" I tilt my head and blink. "Or are mages allowed to have lovers in Orlais?"

She relaxes a little, but it's not by much. "I suppose it was a mixture of both. There were plenty who thought me courting above my station. Many whom attempted to make…let's say an 'example' of me…" She looks so self-satisfied at that thought. "It didn't work out well for them."

"I heard a rumor that he lavished you with armfuls of flowers." I reach over and poke her arm.

She seems a bit surprised by the friendly touch, but doesn't shrink away from it. Smiling a bit at me with that brittle beauty she exudes so well. "He did. Peonies, in fact. My Bastien is a dear man…" There's a clouding of her expression then.

"I also wanted to ask…would you mind modeling for me?" I fidget with the saddle horn again, wondering if I'm about to get a biting remark of some kind.

"For a dress like Seeker Cassandra's perhaps?" She asks, eyes glittering with interest. "So interesting, combining ceremonial armor with a dress- even cutting it up and braiding it…" She trails off with a thoughtful hum. "I think that should be quite the diversion, yes." She agrees with a smile. "Anytime you need me, simply let me know."

"Thank you, Vivienne." I smile back.

She inclines her head and then a thought seems to occur to her. "There was something I wanted to discuss with you, regarding that College of Enchanters you and I spoke about."

I lift a brow, prompting her wordlessly.

She tilts her head and glances over my expression as she speaks, "I never quite expected you to consent to rebuilding a circle when you seem quite so against them."

The 'why' in there is implied.

"I'm not against a mage school." I respond easily. "I'm against the imbalance of power between Mages and Templars. If there is no imbalance and the mages are free to come and go as they please, I have no problem with it."

"If only the rebels were as reasonable," she responds loftily.

I snort. "Oh yeah. Let's jump right back into a fortress where we can be locked in, denied food and raped and no one will care, all over again." I sigh a little when I'm done. "Sorry, that was snarkier than I'd intended it to be."

"It is not unwarranted." Solas cuts in and Vivienne glances back at him. "As Nik says, if the mages are free to roam, there is no reason not to educate them. But those stone walls would be a constant reminder of a time when they were no better than trapped rats, scrabbling at the walls for escape."

"Triggers can be a powerful thing." I mutter and marvel at the quiet of the path around us. "Just seeing the color red or smelling rust, or even feeling something sticky on a counter- can make someone remember a time when someone was killed right before their eyes…make them forget where they are, or that the danger is over. It'd be best to just let them go where they want while they deal with their memories and protect them until they know what they really want."

I don't realize the silence is because of _me_ until I glance over and see both Solas and Vivienne determinedly not looking at me with two different expressions.

Solas faraway and pained as if remembering something and Vivienne downcast and sorrowful in her pretty, practiced way.


	48. Chapter 48

We left Vivienne and the horses with the closest Inquisition camp to Redcliffe and trekked our way up to the gates on foot.

"So, Solas." Krem is looking thoughtful as we walk down the deceptively quiet path. "You're the one who helped the Herald seal the first rift, right? Varric told me that story before we left."

"I am." Solas responds serenely.

"What is sealing a rift like?" He asks, tilting his head inquisitively. "I've seen the glowin' bastards about and we've run across packs of demons around 'em…"

"You'd do better to ask the Herald herself." Solas responds. "I know the mechanics, but I believe you are looking for a non-mage's perspective."

"It's like stitching up and healing a wound." I throw out, before he can even turn to me. "You suck the blood back into the body, seal the edges up and then it sort of…snaps together. The Veil doesn't _want_ to be all ripped up, I think." I shrug and grin.

Krem hums. "That's a funny image to have in my head..."

Blackwall and I both laugh. Solas is quiet, but there's a small smile on his face.

"How's that thing work, then?" Blackwall asks, stepping up beside me to point across at my marked hand. "I didn't even know magic could get stuck in people before I heard about it."

"It's not really stuck so much as…" I search for words.

"Rooted," Solas cuts in with. "It is like a parasite that latched upon her energy and refuses to let go." The irritation there is evident, as is the concern in the furrow of his brow.

"Ah…does it hurt?" Krem walks nearer, gazing down at the mark that I've lifted up in front of my face to examine.

"Sometimes." I shrug and give him a smile. "Solas knows how to fix that, though."

"It always seems like you two are inseparable, and I wondered why." Blackwall says, then grins.

Mostly cause I'm turning an alarming shade of red and sending him a wide-eyed look. "We are not!" I squeak.

Krem and Blackwall chuckle at my expression and declaration.

Solas walks up between Krem and I, slipping into the extremely small space and sending the Charger a warning look for some reason…. I was looking at Blackwall till then, so I didn't see whatever it was that summoned the mage.

"We are perfectly capable of being apart." Solas speaks, rigid next to me and looking kind of…irritated. "But I prefer to be here where I can keep danger effectively at bay. The Herald is extremely vulnerable to _all_ kinds of attack and I would rather not leave her without a buffer."

"I'd be fine with Cole…" I mutter and hunch my shoulders.

The spirit appears out of the nowhere on our left, startling Krem and Blackwall. "You don't want him not to be there…"

My mortification knows no bounds. I can feel my whole body overheating in embarrassment. There is a conspicuous silence.

"Oh. I wasn't supposed to say that." Cole looks so anxious, I can't be mad at him.

"Just…please keep trying to avoid verbalizing or responding to people's thoughts." I sigh.

When I glance up from under my hair, because Cassandra isn't around to braid it and I was too leery to ask Vivienne…I see Blackwall sending Solas a very smirky look, Solas determinedly avoiding his eyes and flushing up to his ears.

Krem just looks kind of crestfallen for some reason, but he's smiling and nudging Solas in the side soon enough- recovered from whatever mood gripped him. "So did you grow up in the forest or what?"

We traveled in relative peace from that point on, Krem asking us all innocuous questions about ourselves and all of us responding in kind. And when we finally reached the gates to Redcliffe…

There wasn't a rift so much as…a distortion. In the air. That kept flickering back and forth from being a rift with demons ringed around it, to being a wavery area that wasn't quite right but wasn't quite ripped open and spilling out demons, either.

"Is this what rifts are normally like?" Blackwall is staring with the rest of us, scratching his beard and eyeing the distortion with curiosity and trepidation. "I could swear they…sat still. Mostly."

Solas shakes his head, "something is effecting this rift. Some powerful magic, a distortion in reality."

"Well, this is the kind of thing we'd have to help you with, right?" Krem is amazingly undaunted, staring the rift down. "What's the plan, then?"

"Perhaps we should retrieve Madame de Fer." Blackwall suggests.

"She has no experience with such things," Solas says, distracted as he watches the rift area fluctuate. "It should seal the same as any other rift…if I can catch and hold it long enough for you to dispatch the demons."

"Catch and hold it?" Krem gives him a weird look. "What, like collaring a mabari?"

Solas glances over and there's a curious little twitch at the side of his mouth. "Close enough, I suppose. You will have to kill them all as quickly as possible while I hold it. I will not be able to help you."

Cole appears to my right, "I will protect her from herself."

Solas actually chuckles at that.

"What!?" I huff and cross my arms. "I've sealed like, literally more than a dozen rifts!"

"This one is different, and you'd try to save them first." Cole replies.

He's right. I was already whining internally about having to kill them real fast just so we could seal the rift before it popped out of existence.

I groan and rub my face with my hands. "Fuck it, let's go."

What followed was one of the oddest fights I've ever been part of, and that includes the guys without pants that we went after with Sera.

It wasn't like there were spots that moved faster and slower, but instead like the demons themselves had an area of time around each of them and when those areas overlapped- there was this weird pocket of _normal_ between the fast and slow, and an extra hazy energy between two fast demon's areas. Flowers sprouted up and died in those spots in like, seconds.

Blackwall and Krem kept the Demons occupied and away from the rift while Cole darted around landing finishing blows and herded them back where they were supposed to be when they tried drifting toward Solas and I.

Solas is focused on the rift, hands parted with some of that fluctuating haze between them, like he's snagging the rift's time pocket and keeping it in place- like a sock getting caught on a nail or something.

So all that was left for me to do was connect to the rift, hoping that made it easier on Solas at the same time as just really really praying the time warp wouldn't catch us in a never-ending loop.

The mark buzzed and skipped as it connected to the rift and I felt a weird sense of confusion and pain traveling up my arm and radiating from the green energy connecting the mark and the rift.

"Come on, close! We've done this before-" I yelp as the energy in the mark suddenly reaches out, grabs hold of a whole bunch of fade energy and starts sealing the rift shut while tugging the demons toward us. "No no, not like that! Just seal it shut!"

There's more confusion as the rift is disrupted and wavers before us.

"What's happening?" Solas looks pale and drawn beside me.

I shake my head, unable to answer. The rift becomes the focus of my entire consciousness and I lose all awareness of anyone and anything around me but that rift and the mark.

It's dark. Not like nothingness or the absence of light, but like the whole world is just painted over with ink. There are indistinct shapes, a shifting of the space around and then…

Six red eyes open out of the gloom, shimmering and locking upon me. There is a feeling of recognition, irritation, confusion, pain…I can't parse all the emotions there.

A wobble in the darkness and suddenly I'm back in front of the rift as it finally seals shut- and I'm falling to my knees gasping for air.

Hazy gray eats at the edges of my vision and I realize I probably haven't been breathing for as long as I was in there.

"Is she alright?" Krem walks up behind me sounding concerned.

"I'm surprised she has not been knocked unconscious." Solas responds. "Nik?" I can feel him at my side, but…

"Oi, catch her!" Blackwall shouts as the world tilts on its axis.


	49. Solas POV

This is not the circumstance in which I'd hoped to see her dreams for the first time.

I wouldn't be drifting through the Fade in search of her so soon if I weren't worried the rift had some kind of effect on her. The mark seemed normal, but she fell into a deep sleep and hasn't woken no matter how we tried to rouse her.

It has only been a few hours, but I am worried. She has only been this deeply asleep when the magic has overtaxed her body. In those cases it was very possible her mind could have been damaged by it. Not simply rendered somewhat inebriated but permanently altered…

Ah.

Her dream isn't far, as I am sleeping on the floor next to her bed in the inn. Distances in the Fade are different, but having our energies so close in the waking makes it infinitely easier to find her.

Cremisius and Blackwall should be standing guard for as long as this takes, so there is no rush…

I pause on the edge of her dream, marveling at the instinctual protections she has somehow created. It is a large…bubble? Not like a barrier or a veneer of ice as I've seen in different mage's dreams, but like a dewdrop. Everything within is distorted as if seen through water.

I marvel at the structure for a moment, because while it is quite limited…

' _She is using minimal energy, her dream is closed off from the rest of the fade and everything within is viewed through a cloudy haze that would make it difficult to discern what emotions she is experiencing or what situations she is viewing…_ '

If a Despair, Terror or Pride demon were to pass by- they would only gather that she is _dreaming._ They would not see what she is dreaming _about_. She is wreathed in contentment, apathy and the quiet of a still mind. It would not interest any demon and what spirits that were to pass by would simply be curious rather than drawn.

Breaching the outer level of the dream is difficult, as it behaves much the same as water. It billows and shifts as I step toward it, wrapping around me as I walk forward. It takes an extra push of effort to force it to pass completely around me and allow me inside.

Within the watery walls, there is…a house. I am standing within a structure, but it is far finer and cleaner than any of the huts I have seen about Thedas…

In fact, aside from the obvious differences- it more closely resembles the way homes used to look in the Elvhenan empire. Well made, progressive in its design, made with style and function both in mind.

And there is Nik, walking in through another doorway on the opposite side of the kitchen, obviously leading to some kind of larder…

She pauses when she sees me and blinks. There are cylindrical metal…bottles? In her hands, that disappear as she takes notice of me. "Solas?"

"Yes." I glance around once more and frown at the two sunken spots in the counter with holes in the middle. A large spout sits over them with some kind of…lever. "Is this what homes look like where you are from?"

The dream shifts and I go still, eyes flicking back to her.

Her own eyes have gone hazy as the dream changes. Obviously deliberately done. Within moments we are standing in a clearing not unlike those we traveled through on our way to Redcliffe.

She sighs once she is finished and her eyes regain some focus as she smiles at me. "It's complicated and I'd rather wait to explain all of that to you."

The Fade is always more helpful for divining purpose and emotion, but now I am somewhat overwhelmed.

She has a natural protection to keep her from attracting attention because she has no control, I see.

Her gladness to see me and her confusion about why I am here is most prevalent, but I also feel a cavalcade of smaller emotions and impressions that I should be able to divine but are too much when it has been too long…

"Are you okay?" Alarm, concern- and she is there before me, hands on my upper arms to keep me still so she can look into my eyes with distress written across her face.

"I…" It seems my distress is communicated with tears, though I do not feel them. I can sense what she is seeing, how her mind chooses to process my own cloud of emotional information. Interesting. Embarrassing. "I'm fine. It is overwhelming to be within someone's dream without…well, it is simply something I will have to get used to."

I use my dreams to contact a great many people in my network, but they are all muted. Dark, hidden- shadows. This is…alarming. This could mean-

No. It is obviously only the mark projecting for her. It is the only explanation.

I step away from her and her hands fall, the sudden surprise and embarrassment she bombards me with are both good indications that she hadn't even realized what she was doing. "I…okay." She runs her fingers through her hair and looks down and away from me.

I had hoped she would be able to look at me in the Fade, at least.

"I came to see if you were well." I tell her, absent-mindedly regarding the clearing she has created. A bit fuzzy around the edges with flowers I've never seen before. "The Rift in front of Redcliffe was…different. I was hoping to find you unchanged and I am glad to see you are…"

I pause at the sight of a small stone statue nearby. One I recognize quite well.

She emits a cloud of panic when she notices it and it suddenly disappears in a haze. I can feel very distinctly that she hadn't meant me to see it.

"What is this?" I will not let this go as easily as the house before. I bring the statue back with a mere whim and point to it.

She chews her bottom lip and waves of uncertainty and self-recrimination surround her. "A…statue."

"Of Fen'Harel." I drop my arm and employ my careful mask, pulling my usual air of calm around me to hide the emotions I may be projecting, myself. "Why is it here?"

"I…didn't mean to put it there?" The upward inflection at the end communicates her confusion as well as the wavering haze surrounding her. "I don't usually make…um…Fade-scapes." She says.

It takes me a while longer than I would like to admit to realize that she means a Fade _landscape._

"For it to simply appear without your direction, it must be important." I prompt her, arms moving behind my back where I can clench my hands together.

"Well, sort of…" She gazes off to the side where the Statue is, but seems to be looking past it. "I just…I dunno. I feel close to him."

There is a throbbing somewhere in my chest, a pain that is so sudden and difficult to hide that she obviously noticed _something_ though she obviously cannot tell precisely what that something is.

"Close to him." It escapes my mouth, flat.

She flinches as if I yelled at her and her emotions are suddenly in so much flux I cannot read them no matter how I try. "Yes…I just…where I come from we have a similar god." She bites her lip again, gnawing at it with such fervor that if she were awake, it would burst under her teeth. "His name is Loki. He was a trickster and portrayed as evil for the sake of being evil."

"Portrayed?" A curious term to use for someone so precise, unless she means…

"There are earlier records of his legends that paint him as a teller of inconvenient truths." She responds, looking away, her hair moving to curtain her expression. "He is the god of change and cultural evolution. Without truth and chaos, you can't have freedom or life. He proves that no one is infallible, not even gods and…"

She looks up at me and falters at my expression.

I'm not certain what face I am making, but make an effort to smile disarmingly. "I see."

It never occurred to me to expect anything like this.


	50. Chapter 50

Solas left my dream after telling me he was glad to see me intact, with a really weird expression on his face.

I hadn't expected to tell him my views on Fen'Harel so soon. I didn't think it'd come up. At all. For a while. And yeah, I'd basically just talked about Loki- but likening him to Fen'Harel would've been enough to imply that I thought the same of both of them…

When I woke up, it was to Solas scribbling in his sketchbook with furrowed brows and Krem and Blackwall drinking ale and playing cards.

Noticing me waking up meant they all scrambled to get me food, water and in Solas's case, throw healing spells over me to check me out.

After they were all satisfied that I was fine, I was allowed out of the inn room in the Gull and Lantern. With Blackwall to follow me around.

Solas retreated to the bed with his sketchbook as soon as I said I wanted to walk around the Tavern but agreed not to leave it. Krem just shrugged and picked his tankard back up, apparently content to sit with him until I got back.

"Hey, Blackwall?" I stop when we reach the tavern's first floor. "Do you think you could watch me from the bar? I wanna talk to people."

He chuckles. "I'll sit in a corner, but be sure I can still see you."

"Cool." I falter when he raises a brow and looks confused by that. "I mean…good."

There are a lot of people in the tavern, of course. All the people I'd expected plus a couple more. I approach a few of the mages to get a lay of the land and eventually find…

"We don't have a lot of room in Haven but we can put some of your people there and then spread the rest out in the Crossroads. I'm sure there's people who'd be willing to take you in if you enchant things for them." I smile at the three Tranquil mages before me. "The Inquisition would like to protect you and would appreciate your help." Stating things logically and bluntly is best.

The woman with brown hair and gray eyes nods her head and turns to the two men beside her. "We should begin moving soon if we wish to make it there before our supplies run out." Her voice is very monotone, face expressionless.

"If you need supplies, I can have the Scouts help you get some." I offer.

One of the men shakes his head of black, greasy hair. "No. We have enough to get there. We will be fine, but we thank you for the consideration." Just as flat.

The last man stands from the table, bowing to me slightly. "We will await your return to Haven, Herald of Andraste."

They get up and walk through the tavern toward the door.

' _The more Tranquil with me, the less of them out there without protection._ ' I'm sure Josephine and Leliana will be delighted to receive them. I should probably inform one of the Scouts so they can send them a message…

"Oi." A woman hails me and walks over to my table. "You're that…Inquisition bird. The woman who seals the rifts."

She's elven and thin. Not elven thin, but thin thin. She looks half-starved, like most of the mages. But she's an elf, so it's even worse. I wanna bake her a fucking cake. A giant pound cake. "I am. Is there something you need?"

She regards me for a few long moments, her corkscrew curl hair shimmering with blonde highlights amidst the brown. She's beautiful, if malnourished and pale. Bruises under her eyes…

Then she swallows and lifts her chin. "You here to take us back to the circles?"

I tilt my head and lift a brow. "No. I am planning to help the loyalists rebuild a college, but I don't intend to jail mages there." Might as well be as up-front as possible. "I'm integrating a lot of mages into the army, the bakery and even have a few apprenticed to tailors right now." I list off with a thoughtful hum.

She's frowning at me. "So what's the college goin' to be for if you don't put mages in it?"

"I'm not building it, the mages are." I inform her. "They want to live there, so I'm helping. But I'm not going to make them stay there. In fact, one of the provisos of me helping to rebuild it is that any mages that want to live there can leave any time they like."

She looks down and fidgets, shifting her weight. "Did you hear yet what's happened?" She whispers. "Why didn't you come sooner? We're…"

"I'm aware of the situation." I tell her, smiling. The Tranquil discussed it with me at length before we hashed out all the details of their contributions to the Inquisition. I availed them of the rules as well and they assented to following them. "I'm _also_ aware, that none of you _has_ to do what Fiona tells you."

She blinks. "What?" As if I'm speaking another language.

"You don't need to stay." I tell her in a low voice. "In fact, Fiona is the only one who agreed to that arrangement. I intend to help her, but none of the rest of you were given a choice, am I correct?"

She nods very slowly.

"Fiona has no legal right to give you to anyone. This isn't Tevinter." I tell her, wrinkling my nose. "Tell the people who are afraid that they can just leave, come to the Inquisition camp. Even if you don't want to join us, we can get you away from here."

She's staring at me with wide eyes and several elves nearby are staring over at us too. They're the only ones with hearing good enough to listen in, I'm sure.

I smile kindly and reach out to take one of her fidgeting hands in mine. "I don't expect any of you to trust me outright. Not with everything that's going on and especially not…well. I know what they're saying about me and I can't imagine it's encouraging to hear." Disregarding all the bad stuff, they say I'm the herald of a prophet that people have been using to subjugate mages for a long time. "But I know where the apostate stronghold in the Hinterlands is."

I had Leliana look into the location after nearly stumbling upon it. I had her use some of the newly hunted animals to make a supply crate with both food and blankets to offer to them. They're closed up in there now, but they haven't attacked any of the people I've sent to give them supplies.

After finding out about the Lord Seeker, Josephine sent a Templar to the Templar stronghold to offer a hand- but he was murdered. Just up and stabbed and then…they put his head on a pike.

His wife was distraught. I attended to her after I came back from Val Royeax and gave her some extra coin to tide her over a while. She sobbed into my shoulder for a while.

Even just remembering is enough to put me on edge, but I continue to smile at the girl before me. "I am certain, if you do not want to join, you could go there with them and wait in their cave until you're certain everything is safe again. I know a lot of you are afraid of what the world has become."

She's staring at my hand holding hers, at the green glow seeping out of the mark. She seems to shake herself after a long moment and nods, dropping her hands and letting go of mine as she turns and walks away.

I grin a little at some of the elves nearby, making it clear that I know they were listening. Some of them give me a small lip-twitch back before turning away while some of them just look a little sick.


	51. Solas POV, Nik POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say, every time I update-- I can't wait to see what you guys think and you never let me down.
> 
> So many people with insightful opinions and speculations that help me figure out what I'm doing next.
> 
> I love all of you to pieces for being so supportive and positive and even you skeptics who ask me critical questions. Because of someone asking those critical questions on the first version of this story, I realized I had to put a lot more foreshadowing and detail into the second version for one of my plot-doodads or it would seem weird and forced.
> 
> You make me a better writer, all of you and I can't imagine finding a better group of readers and reviewers. Every Kudos makes me smile and every Review makes me grin.

"Your face is goin' to stick that way." Young master Aclassi informs me. "I don't think the bloke is dangerous."

"He's a Tevinter mage." I respond, tapping my fingers along the edge of my sketchbook. I haven't been able to put it down since I woke from the dream I shared with Nik. Not only drawing her, but with symbols surrounding her- statues of wolves, actual wolves curled at her feet…

It has been a very long time since I have felt such confusion. Drawing has always been an outlet, but all it has cemented in my mind is that she is… _different_.

"He was Alexius's pupil and partner…" I go on, feeling irritated that I even have to explain my apprehension. "I see no reason to trust him."

"He offered to help us, told us what was goin' on here." He responds, shifting on the log we share before the fire. "He's given us no reason _not_ to trust him, besides bein' from Tevinter." He gives me an amused look, then. "You know that's where _I'm_ from, right? We're not _all_ evil bastards."

It isn't truly his presence that bothers me. "She trusts too easily. I feel I must be twice as suspicious to compensate." I respond. I can feel my nose wrinkling in distaste. "Look at her. No wariness whatsoever."

In fact she seems to be _fawning_ over him. Offering to make him tea, giving him biscuits, introducing him to Vivienne and grinning when they began politely sniping at each other.

"S'the best part about her, innit?" He asks, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. He smiles and glances at her, where she is allowing them to examine _my_ mark. "She didn' even _flinch_ when she first met me and heard my accent. Y'know how rare that is?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Didn't bat an eye when I told her the chief was a Qunari. Doesn't ever seem to even realize you and Varric are different races from her."

I know what he means. She treats us as equals and it is…rarer than rare. "I don't want her to _change…_ " Sighing and turning my eyes back down to my sketchbook, I add another swooping line to the portrait of her wrapped in a wolf fur cloak. "I want her to be _safe_."

' _She is the vessel for my mark…and I can admit that she is worth preserving._ '

"Well, she's got you." He's grinning at me now. "And if I know the chief, he'll melt a little once she starts motherin' in front of him. Varric and that girl…Sera? They seemed fond of her too." He nods at where the three of them are sitting, chatting now- presumably about the mark. "Vivienne is a cold woman, but her whole face lights up with this… _something_ , when she talks to her _._ "

I've noticed that as well. "I do not wish to leave her safety to anyone else." I admit with some chagrin. "I do not…trust them."

I feel almost as though I should pull the words back into my mouth, horrified at my lack of control. I should not be talking about this with a complete stranger. No matter how personable he may be. It is just…it has been so long since someone _listened-_ I am only accustomed to _Nik_ being this interested in what I have to say.

And even then she never pushes or asks personal questions. She senses I want to keep it all to myself, somehow- and refrains. I almost smile at the reminder.

"Don't you trust them a _little_ , though?" He asks, lifting a brow at me. "Cause I've seen you retreat behind Blackwall. You trust him at least enough to guard you while your magic is low."

I consider that point and release a shaking laugh. "I suppose I do." A worrying thing. I should not be quite so careless with my trust in people doing their jobs. I know too well how easily responsibilities can be cast off and forgotten…

"I think your problem's control." He informs me, mussing his hair mindlessly with his fingers. "You want'a be there where you can be in control o' what happens to her. But even with ya there, sometimes shit just happens, right?"

He isn't completely incorrect. "I am the only one who understands the Mark." I point out. "Without me, she would have been consumed many times by now."

"Yeah, but she's gettin' better at handlin' it." He points out, gesturing where she is now taking biscuits and tea to Blackwall. He has been chopping firewood all afternoon, apparently bored just sitting around.

I remember the moment in Val Royeax when I realized she had more control over her emotions than I ever thought her capable of. It has always, in fact, been the mark that she was unfamiliar with when it came to control.

And now that she is becoming accustomed to the mark enough to control even that…

What use will I be to her? To the rest of the Inquisition?

* * *

 

Nik POV

"How fascinating!" Dorian is marveling over Solas's explanation of how rifts are sealed. "I assumed it was something more or less the same, but as the mark acting as some kind of opposite element to the rifts. Are you certain they are the same material? The Veil isn't supposed to have any ability to work magic, even upon itself!"

Solas actually seems like he's trying not to be just as excited to talk to someone on- or well, at least _near-_ his level. "I am certain. I spent days examining it before the Herald woke, and have spent much time afterwards studying the ways in which it effects and is effected by- the rifts."

"My brain is beginning to boil." Blackwall mutters from my left.

Krem chuckles and responds from my right, "I'm just glad no one's talkin' about _fashion_ anymore."

We're riding to the Storm Coast to pick up Bull and his Chargers- and I was right about showing up so soon in Redcliffe. Alexius was eager to invite me back at my earliest convenience and I'm pretty sure that means Corypheus is going to wait until I get back to do anything

We picked up a bunch of horses at the last Inquisition Camp, leaving the ones we'd rode in on- after all, the rotation is as much to give the horses a rest as it is to keep us on fresh mounts.

The weather is in-between freezing and rainy so we've all got our hoods up on the cloaks we've had in our bags this whole time but never really needed. I had Solas enchant my clothes a while back ago and they haven't needed a recharge the whole time we've been traveling so I'm toasty.

"I assume you used some manner of tool to measure your findings or at least wrote something of them down, Solas." Vivienne sighs as if put-upon. "If you did not, I would question your memory and the accuracy of your findings."

"I wouldn't." Dorian gleefully asserts. "There is this amazing phenomenon in magic users that I'm sure no one in the Southern circles would make use of, as it comes from interacting directly with the Fade…"

And then they all started arguing about- well, basically a mind palace. Like in Sherlock. A place where you store your memories and information so you'll never lose it.

Vivienne is assuming it's made and used and maintained with the aid of demons, Dorian assures her it's possible without spirits of any kind to help- and Solas is throwing shade at her for always using 'demon' to refer to all spiritual beings.

It's a good-natured bickering, so I just smile at them.

"How can you stand this?" Blackwall gives me a sideways look. "You hate it when Solas and Sera fight."

"Solas and Sera have a fundamental misunderstanding," I explain. "For people like Vivienne and Dorian, sniping is just how they interact with people they see as equals. The very fact they're arguing like this means they must all at least see each other as competition, which is kind of a compliment coming from Viv and Dorian." I hum a little and smile when Solas's ear twitches and he turns his head to glance back.

He keeps doing that when he hears me make a noise like a hum or a laugh- like he's gotta check on me every two minutes. Annoying in a way, but a sweet sentiment…if I didn't know he was just worried about the mark. I'm pretty sure he can't hear us talking, we're divided enough along the road and Dorian and Viv are making too much noise arguing with him for him to focus on us anyway…

I sigh deeply and sag in the saddle. "I'm a child to him, aren't I?"

"You're not a child." Blackwall assures me, looking amused. "You're just vulnerable. Constantly. To everyone."

Rolling my eyes, I huff and fidget with the reins. "I want him to respect me. He treats me like a two-year-old that's constantly in danger of eating poison if left alone."

How am I going to get him to respect my opinions enough to try and change his mind about destroying Thedas if he thinks I'm an idiot who needs to be protected from herself?

"Solas doesn't think that." Cole appears, walking between me and Blackwall.

Blackwall curses lowly and shakes his head, taking his hand off his sword. "Cole, appear further away and walk over or something."

"Oh. Sorry." Cole responds, a little flatly. Blinking up at Blackwall, he tilts his head. "I didn't mean to be scary."

"You weren't." I reach over and pat the top of his hat. "You just startled him."

"You aren't a child to Solas." He looks up to tell me, striding easily beside my horse. "You're just _important_."

Yeah, beause the Mark is his last hope for what he wants to do. I look sadly down at my left hand and tune out the world as the thoughts begin creeping in.

' _Of course he doesn't_ _ **care**_ _. You're a useless sponge. Everyone else fights and you just boss people around and make clothes. What are you going to do against Corypheus? Bake him a nice muffin?_ ' I try to shake myself out of the grip of the dark thoughts- but they grasp me and take hold.


	52. Dorian POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here we have our first Dorian POV!!

What a curious little group of people, the Inquisition.

I expected hardened warriors, perhaps even holy men and women…

I did not expect the Herald to be so short and adorable, or to find out that she's a mother hen to everyone around her. She offered to make me something called 'hot chocolate' that I cannot wait to try when I first see Haven. It sounds similar to one of the gourmet drinks served in Tevinter and I wonder how it compares.

She insisted I travel with them to the Storm Coast to pick up a mercenary band apparently intending to join their organization. Positively dragged me to the Inquisition camp by the hand, babbling endearingly about how much she wanted to ask me about Tevinter culture.

She is also quite enthusiastic about magic despite not being a mage herself. Something I found encouraging to discover and entertaining to explore.

She flirts with me occasionally, but it seems there is no intent behind it. How refreshing. I enjoy exchanging flirtatious quips with her while her bodyguards look on with mixtures of amusement and irritation.

That elf almost makes me fear that my bedroll might spontaneously combust if I don't desist. Overprotective is an understatement there, I believe.

After packing up camp and heading out for the next, she would often split off with one or both of the warriors, leaving me with the two other mages for company. After it became apparent that we had much in common, I didn't mind it- but at first it seemed she only shoved us together due to our shared magic.

As it turns out, Vivienne is a delightful conversationalist and Solas is _brilliant_. Both of them use words like weapons, but in an entirely different manner than I am used to. How wonderful!

Partway through the trip, our Herald seems to go blank and somewhat…dark. That spirit she introduced me to, that I sometimes have trouble remembering, sticks close to her even now and is doing a fairly good impression of a frantic child trying to calm his sobbing mummy.

He gathered Crystal Grace from the woods nearby and gave them to her at camp this morning. She gave him a hug, but that wasn't enough to lift her apparently dour mood.

Solas tried to approach her, but she seemed to shrink into herself with wet eyes anytime he got near her. He eventually retreated and began to sulk, I think. I'm not familiar with his expressions but that flat look says 'sulky' to me.

Vivienne offered to do her hair and she brightened considerably after bathing with her in a portable tub somewhere in the woods with female scouts on guard.

The scouts came back freshly bathed as well, so I'll assume they took turns keeping lookout with their Herald. How novel! Bathing with servants and followers…hm.

I glance aside at the dashing soldier from my homeland, who is apparently the lieutenant to a Qunari commander and allow myself to wonder for a moment…

"Dorian?" The Herald reins her horse back until it is next to mine and I notice that I've fallen behind quite a bit. "Something wrong?"

She is still a bit down, I see. Her eyes hazed just a bit with the effort of keeping whatever sorrow there at bay. "With me? No. I was beginning to wonder about _you._ "

She dips her head and fidgets with her gloves. "I'm fine."

"Now, we both know _that_ is a lie." I hum. "I am a veritable stranger for now, but I am willing to listen if you wish to talk about whatever it is that is bothering you."

Her eyes fill with tears and I almost think I've made a horrible mistake until she begins choking words out.

"I'm so useless." She whispers. "All I can do is boss people around and make things. I can't fight, I don't have any noble connections or any bonds to the Dalish or the Tal'Vashoth or-" She halts and shakes her head. "This would all be so much _easier_ if I could offer them more than just…me. Than this." She presents her marked hand to me. "Anyone could've given them this. Solas could've stabilized a high-born noble, a Dalish elf, a dwarf…fighters and hunters and people who are…"

Ah. "So you do _nothing_ in Haven? What is it you said? You make things?" She must be mistaken. They all respect her far too much for her to be truly useless.

"I do servant things." She responds. "Cleaning, cooking, healing people. Telling people how to make different kinds of ink and paint and drawing implements and then helping them make them. I know I do a lot, but it's not the same." She is nearly rambling now. "What good is someone like me who can't even defend themselves? Who refuses to, beyond learning to evade things because she's afraid she'd become a horrible monster?"

"Well. I don't know about the Inquisition or any of its members." I respond after a thoughtful pause. "But personally, I would prefer a leader with a good heart over one who was conniving and capable. You may run into problems, but one would hope that someone with humility and whom cares for their people- would be able to look to others to fill the voids in their expertise."

"But that's the whole point." She says miserably. "I _have_ no expertise outside of that stuff I do. Cullen and Leliana run the troops and the spies so they're supposed to be in charge of that kind of stuff- but I'm supposed to be in charge of the mages and recruiting people and…" She sighs and drops her head again. "Sometimes I feel like nothing I do matters."

"It _all_ matters." The spirit is back, walking between our horses with his hand laid gently upon the back of her shin. "You make it _safe_."

"I meant aside from sealing rifts, Cole." She explains, with patience. So much patience, always, it seems.

"I believe he was speaking of your personal policies and the rules of Haven." I cut in, smiling when the boy dips his head. "When you first told them all to me, I was a bit surprised to hear that the Scouts are watching for abuses of power and the like. Most would simply assume that an abuse of power is earned if someone is of a certain rank and allow them to do as they will." I hum and glance away. "Perhaps that is only in Tevinter. Magisters and their apprentices tend to jealously hoard power- but they never seem to mind when those under them brag about them and throw their name around. Unless they're doing something incredibly stupid, of course."

She laughs and looks at me with a smile. "In Tevinter, power is everything. In Orlais, influence. In Ferelden, you could just basically get along with a modicum of both and a healthy helping of heart."

"What about the Free Marches? Antiva? Rivain?" I ask with some amusement.

I'm _delighted_ when she actually answers. "The Free Marchers are all about independence and control of themselves. If you show restraint and courage, you're good there. As for Antiva…" A shadow passes over her face. Something nostalgic rather than truly sorrowful this time. "It's mostly about prestige and glamour. Rivain is a mystery to me for the most part as I've never been there. I've never been out of Ferelden, actually. Only took a short trip to Val Royeax recently, didn't see anything else there..."

"Never?" I ask, surprised. "You seem to know so much about so many cultures and countries that I assumed you'd traveled to most of them."

"I read a lot." She responds with a wry smile. "Plays, stories…everything holds bits and pieces of the cultures it came from. I could even tell you a thing or two about the Chasind and the Avvar, but I've never met any of them personally." She looks a bit put out at that. "I'm hoping some of them will join up."

When I was preparing to come to Redcliffe, still deciding whether or not joining up with an organization called 'The Inquisition' was a good idea…I saw a flyer.

Nailed up on a Chantry board, there was a flyer for the Inquisition- announcing their acceptance of people from all races, faiths and cultures. Encouraging them to come to Haven where they were apparently willing to accommodate all beliefs and I thought to myself… yes. This is right.

I've since thought that my finding that flyer was a sign. I'm finally here, and looking at this small sullen girl…

"As I said, I can't speak for the rest of the Inquisition…" I begin, giving her a smile when she meets my eyes. "But personally I am quite reassured by the thought of you being at least somewhat in charge. Gives me…"

"Hope." The spirit speaks, finishing my thought.

It's a bit embarrassing to even speak the words, let alone have someone speak them _for_ me. But the radiant smile that lights her features with happiness banishes any regret.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Silver has Pneumonia so I'm updating again to entertain her.
> 
> Get well soon, Fen'asha.

"So, what should I call you?" I ask Bull as we settle a ways beyond where Solas and Dorian are tending to the Chargers. "Iron Bull or Hisraad?"

A sudden laugh booms across the coastline as he smacks my shoulder companionably. "Oh, that's good. So I don't have to tell you, huh?" He makes it so easy, not asking questions and just assuming because we're from something called the 'Inquisition'.

"No. But I assume you intended to." I respond, rubbing my arm and giving him a pout. "Which counts for something. We could use the Qunari's help and I have respect for your people…"

"That's good." He nods. "Krem said in his letter back to us that you'd be bringing the elf and the Orlesian lady…but the Tevinter wasn't mentioned."

"Oh, don't call Solas an Elf." I snort and shake my head. "Just trust me. And Dorian joined us not long ago. He's helping us with a time travel issue."

He blinks his one eye at me for a moment as he processes that, placid and calm. "Huh. Cause of that?" He points up at the Breach.

Shrugging, "Possible because of the Breach but deliberately done by a Magister."

"Tch." He sits up on the log of the fallen tree growing out of the ground. "That's gonna suck."

Laughing a little unsteadily, "it's gonna suck _ass_." I'm a little worried I'm going to end up seeing them all die in the red future. Our universe or an alternate one…it'll still hurt.

"The mercenaries are mostly unharmed." Solas has walked over to inform me, and I realize something.

"You're not wearing shoes." I say with a little bit of a wide-eyed look. "These rocks are _sharp_ , Solas."

"I am fine, Herald." He responds with some amusement, though he still looks tired. "My footwraps are sufficient."

"Your arch doesn't even touch the ground!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up. "But fine. If your feet get sliced to ribbons though, Bull is gonna be the one to haul you up and carry you." I point to Bull for emphasis.

Bull grins and waves.

Solas rolls his eyes, turns and walks away. "I will be certain not to injure my feet, then."

"Oh I can see how messin' with him could be fun." Bull chuckles.

"Yeah, about that…" Biting my bottom lip and fidgeting, I explain: "Solas doesn't really approve of the Qun, so if you could try not to mention it to him and let me tell the others where you're from…?"

"Not the first time I met someone who didn't like the Qun." He nods his head, horns glinting in the low light of the cloudy coast. "So. I figure I should tell you what you're getting out of this."

"Mercenaries." I respond. "And you, I assume, won't dislike being carted around to kill different things in different places."

Another laugh, "I knew this would be good!"

"Ah, there you are." Dorian walks over to us with his staff out and acting as a walking stick. He's having as much trouble walking on the rocks as I am…

Solas didn't seem to have any trouble at all. Huh.

"Dorian. This is The Iron Bull." I smile at Bull and remark, "I'm probably gonna default to Bull if that's okay with you?"

"Yeah…" He sighs and stands up, hefting an axe over his shoulder. It's _huge_. "It's what people usually go with. Nobody ever wants to say the whole thing."

"I'm pretty sure Cole will." I mutter with a little smile.

"Are you certain it would be wise to introduce the young man to…ehm…" Dorian gives Bull a sideways look. "Qunari aren't known for their tolerance toward magic and…things thereof."

"So long as I'm gettin' paid, you can pair me up with a demon for all I care." Bull responds.

Dorian and I both grin openly at him and he narrows his eye at us.

"What?" He drawls with suspicion.

"Cole!" I call out, not knowing where exactly he is.

He appears to our right out of a small puff of smoke, walking over to us instead of just popping into existence right next to us.

"Very good!" Dorian exclaims. "You didn't make me twitch for my staff that time."

"Thank you." Cole responds, looking pleased and still kinda flat all at the same time. "I've been practicing."

Giggling a little, I reach over and pat him on the back when he gets close enough. "This is Cole. He's a spirit of Compassion who created his own physical form. He's not possessing anyone and he helps because it's in his nature." That should answer all the usual questions in one swoop.

Bull shakes his head. "I shouldn'a said 'demon'."

…

"So this is…" Blackwall trails off, kneeling before the body of one of our scouts. "What happened to them?"

I walk past and pick up a nearby scrap of paper that it's obvious they were writing as a report to Leliana. "This is that cipher Leliana's been trying to teach me…Solas?"

He's already beside me by the time I ask, glancing over the page with a rapidly darkening expression. "It would appear we are dealing with the Blades of Hessarian."

"What does it say about them?" I ask, curiosity piqued. "I know who they are, but what do they want?"

"The scouts discovered, before they were killed…" He puts his finger on the page to indicate parts I should look at. "The blades are unhappy with their leader, but they are instructed not to question him by the older blades. It appears they are all afraid they will be dealt with if they waver in their devotion."

I can catch a ciphered phrase here and there, make out a word or two…but I'm still not very good at this.

"I found something." Dorian is over in a corner, looking at another body. He plucks some paper out of their grasp and sighs. "It seems the Hessarians left us a love note, how scandalous."

The quip is flat as he gazes down at the dead man, obviously struggling with something.

"After we deal with the Hessarians, I'm going to have to notify their families." The Inquisition is still small enough I can do that personally a _lot_ of the time. "Hopefully there'll be some coin in that stronghold we can divvy up for them."

Dorian glances at me with a raised brow. "Divvy up?"

"The Herald gives the widows some coin to tide them over." Blackwall responds. "Usually a couple sovereigns and some silvers so they can stop working for a week or so and grieve properly before getting back to work."

"Not allowing people to grieve is harmful to them and to us as a result. It's only logical to give them time to process it all." I respond, face heating up at the attention suddenly directed at me from our newest members.

Vivienne, Krem and Dorian all seem to be eyeing me with differing levels of curiosity- so I know the questions are coming.

Solas is the one to ask, which doesn't _really_ surprise me, I guess.

"You seem to know a great deal about the processes of the mind." He says, shifting so he's leaning against the table we'd found the report on. Just so he can stare at my face, it seems.

I clear my throat and shrug. "Where I come from there's…studies done. Into that kind of thing. Grief, anger…everything."

"What kind of studies, my dear?" Vivienne prowls around the dead bodies with a delicate hand lifting the edge of her skirts to keep them from brushing in the blood.

"All kinds." I respond, flustering. "Why people kill other people, how they feel about it. Why people struggle with mortality and how to help them resolve those struggles. What ages people are truly mature enough to be called an 'adult'…"

There are blank looks on all their faces. Not uncomprehending but…they obviously have no idea where to even start.

Dorian clears his throat and glances at the open door. "Perhaps we should retire to the camp before beginning this conversation?"


	54. Chapter 54

"So, wait." Bull seems to be struggling with the concept I've been describing. I don't blame him. "People where you're from, know _how_ people go insane, know how to stop it…but it still happens?"

"Laws are very slow to change there, and there's a lot of people who think psychology is stupid or a nonsense science." That hurts to admit. "My own family still didn't want to admit there was anything wrong with me when I started having nervous breakdowns and panic attacks." One every week. School was so stressful for me without any support at home that…

Well, I couldn't wait to get to school to get away from home. But I also couldn't wait to get home away from school. It was basically a limbo of 'at least I'm not at home' and 'at least school is over and I can sleep now'.

"That must have been frustrating for you, dear." Vivienne remarks, brow furrowed prettily. "But I am afraid I still do not understand this concept of…anxiety. As an illness."

"It's not precisely an illness, but a disorder…" Chewing my lip, I try to explain. "There are different kinds of people, just like there are different flavors of Spirits and Demons."

That comparison is good, it actually makes sense to me and Vivienne, Dorian and Solas all look curious. Bull looks a little skeptical and the Chargers are all grinning like there's some joke waiting to be made, but they're all drunk, so…

Blackwall went to bed a while ago. I think my psychobabble confused him and he escaped to his tent just to get away.

"Let's use an example…" I glance at the ground and pick up a stick to illustrate. "Okay, so lets say there are wisps." I draw three circles in the dirt. "Each one of them represents a different emotional climate."

I draw a teardrop in one circle, a flame in another, then use an X for the third. "Despair, Rage and Apathy."

"No Pride or Desire?" Dorian asks with a small grin.

"I'll get around to that." I grin back. "For now, just imagine these are wisps holding a tiny fragment of the essence of these three emotional climates."

I draw a line from each little circle down and draw bigger circles under each of them. "Our brains can only handle a certain amount of emotional information at once."

I connect Despair and Rage to the first circle, Rage and Apathy to the second and then Despair and Apathy to the third. I draw the little symbols inside the circles. They sit beside each other but don't overlap.

"Gettin' complicated." Krem leans closer to squint at the pictures.

"Just hush and listen, Krem Puff." Bull smacks Krem on the back companionably. "I wanna hear the rest."

"Despair and Rage are two polar opposite climates, so they usually take their turns to fuck you up." I draw a long rectangle next to that Circle and divide it in half. "But no matter which one is more present at the time, they both effect you. You're angry because you don't see the point to your existence. Because it seems like no one cares about you, because the world seems corrupt and wrong…" The teardrop and fire emblem are laid over each other a bit where the box is divided in half, sorta like a venn diagram.

"So what is this?" Solas points to the circles with two symbols sitting inside. "And what is the difference between it and that?" He points to the venn diagram squares, brow knitting together.

"There's not a difference, per se. Just…presentation." Sighing and tapping the stick in my hand against the stump I'm sitting on, I think for a moment. "Sometimes despair makes you weepy, but most of the time it's a lead-in to Apathy." I tap the X symbol. "There's an entire spectrum between them…hang on."

I draw a teardrop with a line between it and another X at the other end away from my original diagram. I actually have to get up and move around the other side of the fire. "Between despair and Apathy, there are no named states, really. It's just how much you feel like weeping and how much you just don't feel like anything. If you feel more like nothing, then you're more Apathetic." I draw little marks on the line, like a timeline.

Walking back, careful of my feet, I gesture to the circles with two symbols inside. "These don't overlap, they're just on the spectrum. You either slide one direction or the other. Whereas with the other one- you always feel both, even if one is more prevalent."

Vivienne hums, "so it is not a difference in how you feel it, but in how it presents itself to you and how it appears..."

"And how you deal with it." I beam in approval. I can't believe they're getting this. "Okay so, next is Rage and Apathy. These don't normally come together, but when they do- it's more like a sudden swing in that direction than a slow slide like with the other two."

I go on to explain mood swings, paranoia, hallucinations and even psychosis to them. They all seem really confused with each concept as I begin, but they slowly come to understand what I'm talking about as I use more and more examples and descriptors from Thedas.

"So anxiety, as a disorder…" Vivienne begins and pauses to gather her thoughts. "It is as if you are possessed by a wisp of some ghastly emotion that never releases you?"

"Basically." I grimace at the comparison. "They're not possessing, though. It's like…you're born with your own spirit that was created from Apathy, Despair or Rage." Humming and clearing my throat, I go on. "Like when a demon or spirit is destroyed and they reform? They reform into _you_ , but still retain some of that nature they had before."

"That sounds horrible." Bull gives me a look. "You said you've got this?"

"Yeah, it's a nightmare." I deadpan and then go on a bit more seriously. "Every day is a struggle against Apathy, Despair and Rage. It's why I seem so even-keeled most of the time. I'm used to _always_ feeling them all the time in turns…"

Their expressions pause me.

Vivienne has an expression of horror on her face. She's paled, her eyes are slightly wide and her lips are pressed into a hard line.

Dorian looks so overcome with something sad and cold.

And Solas is just staring at me with flat eyes, like he's trying to hide his reaction.

I don't look at Bull or the Chargers, I'm afraid of what I'd see.

"You guys know I'm not actually possessed, right? Or whatever…that was just a comparison…" I trail off with some trepidation.

"No, my dear." Vivienne snaps out of it first. "We understand."

Dorian calls for more ale, Solas escapes into his tent and the Chargers start telling stories to dissipate the sudden confused tension in the air around us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The description of Psychology here is limited and basic by design. She's gotta explain brain-science to people in a mostly pre-science type society.


	55. Chapter 55

"I do wonder what it is like where you are from, my dear." Vivienne remarks as we gather spindleweed on the coast. "The more I learn of your homeland, the more curious I become."

After our discussion yesterday about psychology and sociology- wherein they all seemed to be spooked, I thought that topic and all associated topics would be dropped. I.E. talking about where I came from.

"Any _specific_ queries?" I ask, going busily about my task. There are some really pretty rocks that I keep picking up because I just can't help myself. Sparkling, smooth with marbled patterns in some of them.

"What is the magic like there?" Dorian asks, sidling up next to me. "Do you have circles, or is it more like the Dalish and the Avvar?"

"There isn't any." I respond easily, standing up and handing him a full sack of spindleweed. "There are no Elves, Dwarves or Qunari either." Solas knows, but they're too new to have heard about that yet, I guess.

"None whatsoever?" Vivienne asks, frowning. "How can that be?"

"I dunno." I shrug, and it's the truth. Why this world and not my own? Why do some races exist in some worlds but not all worlds? "They were fables and fairytales to me before I came to join the Inquisition."

"Hm." Dorian tilts his head at me, thoughtful and curious. "That must have been quite the shock."

I grin widely. "God, yes. I loved it."

Dorian shares a chuckle with me. "Were you disappointed not to have magic, then?"

"So much, every day of my life." I respond, smiling sadly now. "Even if I didn't _have_ any magic, if there were more in the world around me, I'd have been happy with that." My head dips and I spot a small red rock. I pick it up and stand back up. "Not too much, or it would've been less special, but just a little. A glowing flower, a magical creature, something…anything at all."

I always ached for something more, my whole life. Some sign that there was more wonder and magic in the world than I knew…

There was a hand closing over the red rock in my palm and I startled just a little when I looked up and found it was Solas's.

I almost forgot he was here with us, gathering herbs. He's been so quiet.

"That is why you are so interested in magic, then." There's a sad understanding in his eyes. "Did you not encounter it at all in your entire life before the Inquisition?"

I know Solas could relate more to the despair that's felt when the world is devoid of magic, but he's never known a world _truly_ devoid of it.

I laugh a little and pull my hand out from under his. Mostly because I can feel my skin kind of… _humming_ from the warmth of his skin. "Not the kind you're familiar with." Then I pause to chew on my bottom lip and shrug. What the hell. "Sometimes I know things I'm not supposed to. I used to be able to find lost things around the house…"

Solas tilts his head with a curious spark in his eye and Dorian laughs next to him. "Instinctive magic, then?"

"It was called being 'psychic'." I inform them with a small smile. "When people knew things were about to happen, spoke to the dead or had any encounter with anything that couldn't be explained easily."

"Speak to the dead?" Dorian asks. "Spirits, you mean?"

"Maybe." Who knows, really? "I always kind of figured it was…" I pause for a moment to think about what I'm about to say and backpedal. "Some kind of energy that was just…left around from emotion or violent death or something." Advanced scientific theory is beyond them, even with as brilliant as they are.

Vivienne lifts a brow at me, delicate and practiced. "And you say you know things you are not supposed to?"

"Sometimes." I respond, pursing my lips. "I swear to god, you accuse me of being possessed, I'm sending you back to Haven." I never should've used that comparison.

She laughs like delicate silver bells. "Maker forbid, my dear."

We're basically just waiting on the Requisition of the Mercy's Crest that we sent back to the Inquisition Camp just outside the Storm Coast. They had a craftsman there who repairs armor and weaponry and stuff and Harding figured he could handle it. She took the requisition and the materials we gathered herself so I know it's all in good hands.

I decided to start gathering some spindleweed and serpentstone to show to the mages and smiths at Haven. If it's worth it to Josie to get a lot more of both, we can start up a quarry and send some herbalists to harvest and gather seeds and junk. She's in charge of all that kind of stuff.

After last night, everyone seems a little weird. I mean, not like they suddenly don't want to be around me- quite the opposite in fact.

"Oh dear, allow me to fix that." Vivienne keeps recharging my clothes when the heat runes wear off. I dunno how she always knows, but I guess the constant hum of magic could be conspicuous when it disappears or something.

"Well, look at what I found!" Dorian likewise keeps finding pretty stones and flowers to give to me. It's a sweet gesture and I appreciate it, cause I'm going to be using them for magic research and crafting jewelry but there's an air of something behind everything they keep doing for me.

"Do you know what's going on with them?" I walk over to the mostly empty stretch of coast that Solas is combing for herbs alone. "Every two seconds I turn around and Blackwall and Bull are offering me food, ale or making crude jokes." I laugh so hard I can't breathe and I'd kind of like to take a break from that.

He glances up at me from where he's kneeling before the water. "Hm?"

"Dorian keeps giving me pretty things and that's awesome and all…" I huff and shake my hands free of some of the sand still clinging to them. "But I feel like I'm missing something."

He's smiling at me, like actually smiling. Not a smirk, just sitting there on his haunches smiling at me like I just told a great joke.

"What?"

He chuckles and stands up, dusting his hands off. "You told them you've been struggling with emotional turmoil your entire life and equated it to being possessed by a spirit who never goes away and can never be removed. They are…"

I smack myself in the forehead then, because of _course_. "Ugh. Why aren't you all weird too?" I glance up and eye him suspiciously. Solas is _always_ worried about me.

I don't notice until I really look, but he seems… _younger_ , today. Eyes softer and warmer than usual, expression mostly relaxed.

His smile widens a bit as he tilts his head at me. "I was aware you were struggling with your emotions, and the mark. I even noticed you seemed to get a handle on your emotions fairly quickly in stressful situations, contrary to your claim of being unable to control them. I hadn't realized you'd been dealing with it your entire lifespan."

I frown, "so?"

His smile becomes more subdued, but doesn't disappear. "So, I feel no need to further worry about your emotional or mental state. You have more than proven to me that you have the tools to deal with anything upsetting that may happen to you in the future. I only thought your reactions to be disproportionate to how others might react."

Shaking his head and sighing, he stoops to pick up the bag of herbs beside him. "But you cannot be measured against those without the same affliction. For someone with your problems, you are remarkably resilient."

I'm struck dumb, staring at him with incomprehension.

He stands up, the pack slung over his back and smiles widely again. "I was worried you were too weak for this world, but you are stronger than I could have ever known."


	56. Solas POV

The sudden embrace was unexpected and confusing. Her arms wrapped around my waist and the sudden warmth were both jarring and confusingly welcome.

Her hair brushed my face and there was the scent of something like those Orlesian berries she uses to make her pastries and jellies with…

I nearly dropped the sack of spindleweed slung over my shoulder- and then she pulled away, almost immediately. She stammered an apology and briskly walked back to camp. I was struck dumb, and stood there simply watching her go until she'd rounded the bend upward.

After her perplexing behavior on the trip to the coast and the way she kept shying away from me, I had thought perhaps I'd offended her in some way she refused to enlighten me about. But she is often open and honest in the most blunt and abrasive of ways, she would have told me. Or at the very least, called me a 'jerk' or an 'asshole' before going silent.

"Oh, thank you." Cole appears with a shiver of air and a puff of smoke next to me. "I didn't know how to fix that without telling you and that would have made it worse." Said with relief, as if an itch had finally been scratched.

"Cole." I pause for a moment to think. "I apologize. I hadn't thought at all how this would effect you." Being trapped in a traveling party with a woman almost bursting into tears every time I approached her for unknown reasons can't have been comfortable for him.

A glaring oversight. I noticed him nearly attached to her for the entire duration of her odd mood, but I assumed he was helping in some way rather than…simply feeling helpless to do _anything_.

"You had hurt too." He responds, peering after her where she disappeared around the curve of the beach up to camp. "You don't know why she was sad and now you don't know why she's happy."

"Would you be able to tell me without compromising her trust?" There is a fine line between phrasing something so I might understand it and giving me information she would not normally offer.

"I don't have the words." He replies, sadness radiating from his body. "If I tried, it would tangle and rip."

I feel a rush of surprise. "You…how do you know?" Spirits do not usually think ahead in such ways. They solve the problem as simply and honestly as possible.

"She teaches me things." He says, looking into my eyes. "She taught all of you, before."

"She is teaching you what she knows of psychology." Such an interesting science. "And it is helpful to you?" I'd imagine it must be, not only to hear the pain but to understand it. To know many possible ways to alleviate it.

"I don't have to hear the hurts to help, now." There is awe in his voice. "I know if I couldn't hear, I could still help."

My heart throbs in my chest and it takes a moment to gather myself after something falls into place. "She is preparing you for the eventuality in which you become more human." It is something I have not given much thought to, between everything else. Cole would either have to forsake his humanity or someday become more and more human as he learns more about them and how to be _like_ them. He could not be in this limbo forever.

"I could be both or neither." He responds, smiling. "She said it was a choice. If I wanted to be human. I have time, before things happen that make it…that make me…" He frowns as if grasping at something that isn't there. "She doesn't like to think about it." He says, apologetic.

"No, I imagine not." She seems the type to prefer to plan for all eventualities but avoid thinking of the consequences of failure. With what I know of her condition now…perhaps it is the only way she can be. "What would she prefer you to be?"

"She wants me to be what I am." He says. "I chose to be this, so this is what I wanted. If I want something else, she wants me to be _that_ instead." There is a pause as he dips his head and looks unsurely at his fidgeting fingers. "She said if I want to be what I am forever…she could try to help me stay this way."

"And if you do not?" I believe I already know the answer, but it never hurts to have confirmation.

"She said she'd pull my parts solid for me if I want to be human…and…" He frowns and searches for the words, but it seems he's forgotten. "She would help me be a spirit again, but I forget how."

I smile warmly at the young spirit and reach out to clasp his shoulder. "I would help you as well if I have the means and you the motivation."

"I know." He has a wan smile, but it is there. There is a pleased hum to his being as he turns and vanishes once more.

And leaves me alone at _Dorian's_ mercy, of all things.

He walks over as Cole disappears and purses his lips as he stops before me.

I lift a brow and shift my weight, considering dropping the sack if more people are going to be speaking to me. But it is not heavy. "What is it, Dorian?"

"I was wondering something. I am getting mixed signals from every direction." He pauses and strokes his mustache for a moment. "Nik. And you. I would like to know…are you related at all? Or perhaps involved?"

My spine stiffens as I consider the reasons for that question- but I answer him cooly. "I hold no claims upon her and we are not related by blood, no."

"I'm a touch confused about that." He admits with a slight frown. "She seems to absolutely-well. She's quite attached to you, and you to her…but there seems to be…little to no intent there."

"Intent?" I question, raising a brow. Inwardly both bristling and warming at his notice of her attachment to me. That is ridiculous, it should not…I should not feel warm simply for…

"Romantic, sexual, political…" There is a light dawning in his expression then. "Neither of you wants to use the other for anything, it seems…"

"No." I respond, recalling our conversation just after returning from Val Royeax. "Nik does not 'use' people…and I…" Words escape me. "It would be wrong of me to do that to her."

I have already ruined her life, possibly…possibly killed her- no matter how slow the death or how painless it is likely to be for a while yet.

"But not to anyone else?" He catches my slip with a merry grin. "She tends to have that effect, doesn't she? Do you think she could spend a few minutes with a cutpurse and have him declaring his loyalties by the time it was over? I believe it would be possible with those big, attentive eyes and that _passion_."

The admiring gleam to his eyes would be agreeable if I were not half-certain he was leading us all to our deaths.

But…

"I believe she could walk into a den of thieves with nothing and walk out with ropes of pearls draped around her throat, gems dripping from her fingers and a handful of protective new friends." It is what she has done with everyone she meets. She endears them so closely to her that they would give her anything, do anything, just to bask in her attention.

It is surprising to realize, I am one of them.

Surprising and somewhat horrifying.


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm lagging on updates for now. I'm recharging and stretching my brain muscles in other directions for the moment.
> 
> Good news is, this usually means when I come back it'll be with a little bit of a vengeance, lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I forgot to bold the dialogue in the last Fade dream that Solas and Nik shared, so I'll fix that later if I haven't already by the time you read this. My brain is all over the place...

The Fade is a confusingly beautiful place.

It's been a while since I've been able to dream lucidly. The first time was only a couple days before I shared that dream with Solas- god, I'm _still_ kicking myself for dreaming modern when there's a curious somniari basically always with me.

Tonight, when he shows himself, I've had the presence of mind to direct my attention to something more Thedosian.

" **Herald**." He walks up to where I'm sitting on the shore of the Storm Coast, settling beside me. " **Do you mind my presence here?** "

I give him an unsure smile. " **I don't mind…did you need something?** "

He smiles a little, then. " **I wanted to ask you about your god. The one who resembles Fen'Harel.** "

Ohhh, bad topic choice, Solas. " **What did you want to know about him?** "

His eyes are darting around me and over my face. " **Do you not wish to speak of this? You needn't accommodate me if you are uncomfortable with-** "

I wave my hands and huff, cutting him off. " **You know I'm emotional. In the Fade it's just harder to get a handle on. Ignore whatever…it is you're picking up on.** " I noticed before that he seemed really overwhelmed with whatever it was he was picking up from my dreams.

He'd looked like he was crying and then suddenly the tears were gone and he looked embarrassed as he pulled away from my dumb ass and my grip on his arms- I felt really bad about that.

" **As you say.** " He responds. " **May I ask…you said his name was Loki?** "

" **I did.** " I respond and lick my lips. " **What do you want to know about him?** "

" **I was wondering if you would tell me…why did they twist his legends?** " He's looking out over the water with a very flat expression. " **Was it simply that they forgot? Or was there an agenda behind it?** "

" **Probably a little bit of both,** " I say. " **People who honored him probably fell in number due to some schism in the religion or the culture- then people who don't like what he stood for, probably said bad things about him…** "

His expression doesn't change, but my heart is aching. That only happens when someone's in a lot of pain. I always used to think I was an empath, but in my world, magic doesn't exist…am I finally one now, here? Or is it just the Fade?

" **But it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.** " I smile when he turns his head to look at me. " **Where I come from, Loki is of a pantheon that's not really all that popular, but those who do know of him and worship him- they love him. Not because of what they've been told, but because of what they feel is true.** " I tap my chest, over my heart. " **If there's some scrap of information, a dream showing another side of the story- anything. If there's anything to make people think twice, they will.** "

He hums and looks back out at the water. " **Why do** _ **you**_ **worship him?** "

I laugh. " **I don't. I share my life with him. I open myself up to him and his shenanigans. I talk to him sometimes…but I don't worship him. I don't think he's that kind of god.** " It's what I've always liked best about Loki. How he seems to treat all his worshipers like dear friends and family, from all accounts. " **He's more like Sera, to be honest.** "

" **Like Sera?** " Oh now I have his full attention. Brow furrowed and all. " **In what way?** "

" **A troublemaker whose whims can blow this way or that depending on their mood and how people around them behave…** " I bite my bottom lip and feel a grin pulling at the edges of my mouth. " **And he never seeks to really change society, so much as an individual. His tests and challenges are for** _ **their**_ **benefit, rather than his. He gets a kick out of it, but…well. You would too, regardless of the meaning behind it, right?** " I glance over and laugh at the deadpan expression on his face.

" **I don't believe I would enjoy making people walk through fire simply for my own amusement, no.** " He says, perfectly serious.

I snort. " **He doesn't do** _ **that**_ **…that I know of.** " Humming and curling my fingers together, I enjoy the breeze that's begun to blow. " **He puts them through trials so they can discover things about themselves. Their true natures, their true desires. Not anything really dangerous, usually- just like…giving them a particularly bad day and then putting someone or something in their path that will soothe them, to make them see there are things in life to enjoy…or something.** " I huff, " **I'm not good at giving examples.** "

" **A god of self realization.** " He mutters. " **I've never heard of such a thing in Thedas…** "

" **Most god legends are focused toward death, war, love, birth…the big things that everyone is capable of comprehending.** " My lips pull into a lopsided smile. " **I'm…a little unconventional. In most cases. I mean, it's not like I'm unique, but I'm in…you know-the minority.** "

" **I also wished to ask, about that.** " He says, haltingly. " **Where you come from…are there many who think like you? Your…ideas of magic, your ideals?** "

" **There are some.** " I shrug. " **I was sheltered and cloistered, just a bit…I don't usually like being around people a lot. They can be…** _ **exhausting,**_ " I say, smiling. " **I don't remember meeting anyone personally with all my same views but…well, I had…pen pals.** " Best way to illustrate online friends, I think. " **People from near and a bit far, but not too far…who'd exchange descriptions of their day with me and we became friends. From different cultures, no matter how minimal the differences were.** "

To me, all the world's cultures have common roots and that's all that matters. Even if America and China are completely different, they have some of the same values at the center. We're socialized different, but…

" **I have lost you, where have you gone?** " A snap and I'm jerking to attention, seeing Solas smirking at me from off to my left.

I pout and reach over to shove his shoulder a little. " **Shut up your smirky face, Solas.** "

The smirk becomes more fond than gloating, and that's a little confusing. " **Ma nuvenin.** "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they've talked a little about Loki, but the truly absurd questions won't arise until she brings up more stuff that will seem weird enough to ask about to the others. lol
> 
>  
> 
> Ma nuvenin - As you wish, As you say


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite *back* yet, but I have a chapter finished, so I figured I'd put it up.

I sent the Chargers with Vivienne and Blackwall- Blackwall leading the Blades- to investigate the Darkspawn issues on the Storm Coast.

The fight against the Blades of Hessarian's leader went much how I expected it to.

At the start of the match, I demanded all the hounds be locked in cages, though. I told him I didn't want to have to kill the hounds around us just because they leapt to protect their master.

He didn't like that(of course), but the other Blades considered the dogs fighting to be a breach of the Mercy's Crest's-…what do you call it? A contract, an agreement, a parley? They agreed and put them in cages, anyhow. And because he couldn't let on that he'd planned to cheat, he had to shut up and let it happen.

And since I'm not a warrior, I had to appoint a Champion. Bull offered, but the leader called out our resident Gray Warden for not offering his sword in service to his leader. Talking about Gray Wardens being cowards and then I knew Blackwall would resent not being allowed to champion me.

So I sighed, nodded to Blackwall and he stepped forward for me.

Which is what the leader wanted, really. Bull is ginormous and obviously would have won straight out, but Blackwall is a human swordsman- a rather haggard looking one. The leader obviously underestimated him.

That worked to Blackwall's advantage.

So Blackwall won, the Blades declared their loyalty to be mine- and I asked them to take care of the Darkspawn in the area with Blackwall. Vivienne I asked to stay because though she's not quite a _gifted_ healer- she knows enough to do triage and they have surgeons and potions so…

After that, we set off for 'home'.

Dorian and Bull traded some Qunari and Tevinter barbs, the kind we hear in-game frequently- no flirting yet, though. Bull doesn't seem interested at this point.

And again…Cole is somewhere- but he prefers to remain unseen for now, I think.

We were just walking along, hanging out and discussing anything and everything. After recruiting the Blades of Hessarian for the Inquisition, we all felt sufficiently triumphant and relaxed to just…chatter.

And then Dorian said…

"What?" Solas pauses and I have a sinking feeling this is about to go really bad, really fast.

We all stop in the middle of the road, in a weird sort of semi-circle. Bull just looks bored, but I know he's got some opinion on this- even if it's a Qun-approved opinion.

"I was just saying that slavery is a practice that was created to avoid the southern problems of slums and alienages." Dorian apparently has no idea why that's offensive to Solas, besides him being an elf and elves being slaves more often than anyone else- which should've paused him, to be honest. "Our slaves are provided for, given a place to live and a purpose for their lives which might otherwise be spent begging or-"

"Herald." Solas is already looking at me, and I'm trying not to look back. "Are you not going to say something?" There's a breathless quality to his voice that's a little alarming.

"What should I say?" I respond, glancing at him. "Dorian knows I disagree and why- talking isn't going to convince him of anything."

"That's not very sporting, Herald." Dorian frowns at me. "I only mean to say that slavery is an alternative to starvation and begging. I know some slaves are mistreated-"

"Some." I lift a brow at him. "Some slaves are mistreated." I'm pretty deadpan.

"My family, to my knowledge has never-" He's frowning pretty spectacularly at me now.

"Simply by owning a sentient being, you are mistreating them." I cut him off. "Even if you pamper them with sweets and fancy dress and treat them nicely their entire lifespan- the very fact that you own them and they have no protection from you if you suddenly decide not to be so nice anymore…that is an imbalance of power that shouldn't exist."

Solas is walking in silence, stony but not irate yet, I think.

Dorian huffs, "I'll have you know, many of my family own slaves that are quite happy working for them."

Cole appears next to us in a puff of smoke. Near enough to startle Bull but far enough away to give the rest of us warning as he walks over. "The pain goes away, but there's always more." His eyes haze over a bit more than usual as he turns to face Dorian. His face clears as he speaks, but it's a struggle for him, I can see. "There was a slave who was slapped in front of you, once. You gave her a handkerchief and healed her face."

Dorian seems to fluster. "I-"

"You don't really think it's right either." Cole says, tone very final. "You don't like it. Why are you talking about it like that?"

Dorian is humming very uncomfortably.

"Because he loves Tevinter." I respond with surety. "Dorian is clinging to the propaganda and the things he's always been taught were nicer and better because without them- he doesn't have many reasons to do so."

Dorian's hackles are raising, now. "Now wait just-"

"Dorian." I punch him in the arm, just hard enough to get him to shut up. "You know. Cole doesn't lie. You need to let that part of Tevinter go, and just focus on the things that you love that hurt no one."

He's staring at me with some incomprehensible emotion on his face and I remember after a moment that he barely knows me.

So I sigh and shrug my shoulders. "I know you're smart and compassionate enough that you'll figure out what I'm talking about if you think about it a little. Until then, please. Don't bring the subject up again."

I'd be harsher if I didn't love Dorian so much. With anyone else…

"I cannot even argue!?" Dorian asks with a little up-tilt to the end of his question.

"I didn't say you couldn't. I asked you not to." I narrow my eyes at him. "Where do you think most of the escaped slaves from Tevinter, _go_?"

A long silence as Dorian frowns at me. "I don't…what?"

"They come _here,_ Dorian." I tell him, gesturing around us. "Everyone in the South has had a friend, a family member or even just met someone in passing who used to be a slave."

His confusion is gone, but now he just looks lost.

"I'm asking you to be considerate and avoid a subject that upsets us. You can choose to ignore the plea." I lift a brow and purse my lips. "But you'd be kind of an asshole for doing so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only way I could fix what I see as a glaring inaccuracy in Dorian's Character. The only way someone as compassionate and smart as Dorian could actually think Slavery is a good idea is if it was linked to some serious mental and emotional turmoil, I think.
> 
> Therefore, Dorian doesn't actually like Slavery.
> 
> *EDIT* And by this I mean, he doesn't like the 'reality' of slavery. If everyone will look at my response to Aya's comment, I figured out how best to describe this. He has an idea of what 'slavery' is. He's just...really idealistic with it. It's my own personal headcanon and you can disagree- but that's the way it is in this story. This is how I 'fixed' what I saw as a discrepancy. *EDIT*
> 
> It's just one of those things he has a hard time calling Tevinter out on.
> 
> I absolutely could be wrong about it, I haven't read any books or comics and most of what I know about Dorian other than the game comes from wikis...
> 
> ....
> 
> Also. 
> 
> I was thinking about writing up something about how Nik would've reacted to the Inquisition events if she wasn't aware of Thedas/didn't play the game/it didn't exist in her world/lost her memories, whatever...
> 
> Eh, I'll think about it some more. It'd probably just be a drabble or something...


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Startin' to get my steam back!

"You look tired, Boss." Bull sits next to me in the Tavern.

Varric is on my other side, scribbling in a journal. Doesn't even look up when he comments, "yeah, I noticed that too. That thing in your hand paining you more'n usual?"

"Nah, she just had to shut down the Vint." Bull says, irritatingly enough. "Did it a lot nicer than I would've."

"His name is _Dorian_." I reply a little snappishly. "And I know what you're doing, cut it out. I have enough day-to-day stress, _Bull._ "

He puts his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Should've known better. Still, from Blackwall and Lady Vivienne, I gather you're usually a little firmer than that." He snorts. "Even Solas thinks you went too easy on the guy."

I sigh and flop my head on the table in front of me. "Yeah, and that's why he's not talking to me." Dorian's not talking to me either, but _Solas_ not talking to me is what's really upsetting. Because I disagreed with Dorian, so I know why _he's_ mad. Why is Solas mad at _me_?

"What did the guy do, exactly?" Varric asks.

Bull gets him up to speed pretty quick. "Defended slavery and even got upset that she didn't want to keep arguin' about it."

"He thought I was telling him what to do so he got upset about that. He's allowed." I take a deep breath. "He's part of a privileged class and he's never had to look all that hard at Tevinter and its practices. Everything he ever learned was right, he has to realize is wrong- and everything he thought was wrong is wrong for entirely different reasons."

It's confusing for him. He shouldn't be babied, but I also can't bring myself to really try to make it hurt to drive the point home. He's _Dorian_.

"Phbbbt!" Sera walks over, blowing a raspberry before sitting across from me. "Arrow shoved the right places can fix that, you know."

"For now." I respond. "But there'll always be more people that think like that. I'd rather convert them and bolster our numbers than kill them or hurt them and still leave us at a disadvantage."

"You're thinkin' war." Bull comments, waving at Flissa to bring some ale. "War on who?"

" _Life_ is war." I respond flatly. "People attempting to put themselves on top, other people just trying not to get stepped on and a small fraction of people- us -just trying to hold society together and fix some shit that's broken."

"That was almost poetic, Schemer." Varric chuckles. "So why _didn't_ you slam the mage?"

Huffing into the table, I shrug. "I have good instincts about people and my instincts say he's someone we want on our side…" I deliberate as I trail off on whether I should say more.

"Spit it, wot?" Sera demands as she takes one of the flagons from Flissa and Bull distributes the rest.

I lift my head and sigh into the depths of the Flagon as Flissa hip-switches away. "He's an Altus. Basically…he could become Archon if he really wants. His father is a Magister. So he could also end up as one of those."

Sera is squinting at me like she doesn't see how that matters under the umbrella of 'why should we be so nice to the guy' so I go to explain.

But Bull slaps me on the back and laughs. "I get it!"

"Clever." Varric pauses his writing to give me a look. "I told you the name fits."

I roll my eyes while Sera throws her hands up and demands an explanation. "What are you all on about!?"

"Think about it, Sera." She's smarter than anyone ever thinks she is. Damn near brilliant as Solas and Dorian- albeit in a different area.

So she frowns with her nose scrunched up all cute and endearing- then her ears twitch and she slaps her hands on the table. "I didn' know I was signin' on to take over _Tevinter_!" She hisses, funny enough- bouncing in her seat. "A'right, tell me what I can do."

"It's going to be a while before we can move politically in Tevinter, or even Orlais." I say, smiling at Sera. "But when it comes time…you'll probably have to establish some kind of Red Jenny network before we can head over there at all."

She nods once, fiercely and slaps a closed fist down on the table. "Anytime!"

"I hadn't thought you cared much for the plight of Elves, Sera." Solas appears from nowhere and sits beside her, because of course.

Sera and I _both_ nearly leap out of our seats- cursing and sputtering the whole way.

"Make noise when you walk!" I squawk at him as I settle more easily with Bull steadying me.

"Shoot you full of arrows with bells on the ends…" Sera mutters as she crosses her arms and slouches over the table.

"My apologies." Solas smoothly inserts. "You should be more careful what you speak of in the Tavern."

"I'm pretty sure the Boss is talkin' about it _because_ we're in the tavern." Bull chuckles. "Most people are too busy getting drunk or hitting on each other to even pay attention and if they catch something- a lot of 'em will wonder if it wasn't the drink talkin'."

"The rest will try to tell someone and that person will probably not believe them on the basis that they were in a Tavern and were most probably drunk, no matter what they say to the contrary." I finish, taking a sip from my tankard.

Varric is chuckling next to me and I shove his shoulder in retaliation.

"Why are you so excited to be a part of a takeover of Tevinter?" Solas pointedly asks Sera. "You've shown no interest in Elves before now-"

"S'not just _elves_ in Tevinter that get a shite deal, yeah?" Sera snorts. "Slaves aren't _jus'_ elves, and there's people on the bottom besides slaves, too. People who go missin' and nobody cares, people who get made _into_ slaves for talkin' shit on people."

"Or for not adhering to their rules in some way and breaking some fucked-up law regarding sexuality or gender." I note, quietly sipping from my ale again.

"Right!" Sera declares, grinning at me. "I wanna help _people_. People with ears, people with horns, s'all the same to me."

Sera doesn't like elfy things because she's grown up human. Humans don't like elven culture, they don't like elves, they don't like the elven gods. Any expression of elfy-ness was probably met with ridicule and abuse.

"Whoa, boss." Bull pats my back. "I think you've had enough."

I blink in surprise and glance down at my tankard. Half-empty, and now there's tears running down my face. "Oh." I breathe.

"I believe you should go to bed now." Solas stands from the table and walks around.

"Ah come on, Chuckles. Everybody gets emotional when they drink." Varric nudges my side. "You wanna stay? We could just get you some fruit juice or something."

"I think sleep is good." I intone flatly, blinking away a whole new wave of tears. The feelings are overwhelming me. It isn't really the drink, I mean- part of it, sure. There's just…

Too much.

Solas helps me out of my seat, because I'm unsteady and wobbling even before I go to stand up.

The trip to my cabin is a blur, but I get the distinct impression he supported my weight more and more until I collapsed sobbing in the snow. And then carried me into my cabin and sent me to sleep with a spell.


	60. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating for a reason, read the chapter then see the end notes-- I love you guys and I hope you like it!
> 
> *grins*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to put this note here when I posted. This is in no way a how-to for dealing with depressed or anxious people. This is how Nik deals with it and she and Cole discussed it beforehand.

I do not know what to do.

"We're leavin' tomorrow, Schemer…you probably need to pack some shit." Varric has been attempting to coax Nik out of bed.

We both realized we hadn't seen her since last night and knowing how I had left her- I worried. Especially because it was several hours past sunrise and no one had reported her scurrying about Haven.

In fact many of them were beginning to panic because she was not there to tell them what to do. That was also worrying.

So we came to investigate. "Herald." I tug lightly at the blankets wrapped around her. "You must at least go over the maps with Lady Cassandra and Leliana."

"I'm tired." She mutters from beneath the blankets. "Too much. I just want to lay here. I'll get up tomorrow."

"No, you won't." Cole walks through the front door, and surprisingly rips the sheets and blankets off of her.

She inhales sharply and blinks wide eyes at him as he grasps her hand and hauls her to her feet. Catching her when she nearly falls over with the force of it. "Cole-!"

"You are helping. You have to help or it hurts!" He declares and tugs her out of the cabin behind him in her sleeping clothes. "You told me."

"Cole, I believe you should allow her to get dressed first." I follow the spirit as he drags Nik out into the snow, casting a barrier and a warming rune over her to fight off the chill. "Or at the very _least_ allow her to put on shoes."

"She can't stop or she won't ever start again." He says, low and ominous as he drags her up the steps, past my own cabin and into the space between it and Adan's cabin. "There's more. You know this."

He sets her firmly at the table with sacks of _feladara_ around it. There are two elves there who scurry away with baskets filled with roots and leaves as soon as we approach.

"Cole…" She whispers and her eyes are flooded with tears. "I can't…"

"You _will_." He clasps her hand and puts a knife in it, clenching it shut for her and releasing. She holds the knife above the table where he let go and he puts a bundle of plants before her. " _Now_."

I am not certain if I should intervene and Varric looks as at a loss as I am.

He shifts in place, snow crunching beneath his feet. "Is this good? I can't tell."

"Cole is Compassion. He…must know what he is doing." It almost seems cruel, but if Cole were twisted into something like Cruelty or Despair, it would be apparent. This must make sense. Somehow.

' _You told me._ ' He'd said.

And as time passes and her movements become less shaky and she is moving faster and faster- it seems it is working.

I avoided her after she was lenient with Dorian, angry with her for what I perceived as a lack of passion for freedom- apathy, even. When in reality she was simply doing what she always does.

Looking to the future, finding an angle and a reason to be compassionate to someone and then _acting_ upon that reason. Her ideas for reforming Tevinter are sure to be interesting and in truth I cannot wait to hear them.

It still bothers me that she didn't feel safe enough to express the full vehemence of her apparently very strong feelings-

But after seeing her break down and refuse to get up this morning...I wonder if perhaps she cannot ever feel anything to its fullest extent without it overwhelming her.

Her eyes clear of moisture, spine straightening as she works, breathing evening out. Working seems to pull her out of whatever emotional turmoil she experiences when she gets like this.

Before long, Varric and I have settled next to her. Varric rinsing the plants, I separating the leaves from the stem, and she cutting the stem from the root. It is my understanding that the leaves are used for tea and the stem is made into a paste for cleaning teeth.

Cole wanders away, but returns periodically to drop sacks and carry away baskets. No one else approaches and before long, it has been two hours and all the _feladara_ is gone.

The time passed quickly with the rhythm and the comfortable silence we fell into. Varric didn't attempt to lighten the mood with a joke or anecdote once, which is further indication of his uneasiness.

She glances aside at me once she seems to regain her full faculties and her face reddens. "I'm sorry."

I feel my brow pinch at that. "For what?"

She drops her head and her shoulder hunch. "I didn't want anyone to see me when I'm..."

"You aren't." Cole is there again, pulling her out of her seat. "You're going to help Cassandra now. Leliana told her about the passage but she's still afraid."

"I'll figure things out with them, I promise." She pats his hand on her arm and he releases her. Her lips curve in a disarming smile and she pats his cheek softly. "Thank you."

He blinks and nods his head, wringing his hands once she's swept past him. "It hurt…but it helped." He looks so woefully confused. "I knew it would hurt, but I had to. To help. She told me to do it, before. I…was I wrong?"

"No," I respond. I walk with Varric to stand beside Cole as he watches her go. "Sometimes, to save the body you must cut off a diseased limb. To stop bleeding, you must cauterize the wound. The best you can do is be certain the help always outweighs the harm. And if she asked you to…then you were simply honoring an agreement."

"Sounds about right." Varric huffs and crosses his arms, shifting in place. "I've gotta remember this the next time I see the Elf. He's more angry than weepy but he gets…scary still sometimes. And drunk."

"He just needs to know you need him." Cole responds sagely. "He likes to be needed."

"Huh?" Varric gives Cole a look, shifting his attention to the young spirit. "How do you know that?"

Cole tilts his head at the dwarf, "I can hear the hurt through you. It's hard…you sing different. But I can…feel him."

Varric shakes his head. "Alright. So what are you talkin' about?"

" _He never needed me._ " Cole intones in a rough timbre, unfamiliar and dark. " _She never needed me. I need to be needed, I hate that I_ _ **need**_." He finishes with an angry, _anguished_ growl.

"Okay, yeah. That sounds like the Broody Elf." Varric seems unsettled. "Can you feel…he's fine, right?"

"He isn't hurting yet." Cole replies. "If I hear him hurting, I will tell you."

"Thanks, kid." Varric replies, relieved. "Just…you know. Good to keep tabs, on that kind of thing."

"I wanted to ask a question, about Fenris." I curl a hand around my chin and shift my weight.

Varric turns to me with a half-smile. "If it's about the lyrium, I dunno how that works."

"Hm, no." I respond, mouth ticking up at one edge. "I wished to ask…where is he now?" My agents have reported activities that could be connected to him in many places. I have not been able to narrow down his position.

"Schemer wanted to know too, while back ago." He replies, sighing and shrugging his shoulders. "He's off killing slavers, probably with Barkley still backing him up."

"Barkley?" I lift a brow.

He chuckles and nods. "Hawke's Mabari. Took a shine to Broody and by the time they had to leave Kirkwall- Hawke knew he couldn't take him with 'em. So he asked the Elf to take the dog."

"A mabari willingly following another master." I hum. "Interesting." As far as I know, that is…unprecedented if the original master is not dead.

"He needs to be needed too." Cole tells us, blinking his wide eyes at the snow beginning to fall upon his hat. Looking up at the sky, he tilts his head. "Now they need _each other_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://archiveofourown.org/works/9037673
> 
> This is Rewritten Holiday. If you want a holiday-themed fic, this is an AU with Nik giving out gifts to all of her closest friends.
> 
> I updated just to put this on here so you guys with subscriptions and those of you keeping your eye on this story would be able to see this note and know about the story.
> 
> I appreciate you all so much.


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I figured out some stuff that made this next part work and it really makes sense to me.

"The fuck is this?" I glance around the immediate area as Dorian picks himself up and dusts himself off. "Where are we?"

I'm not acting surprised. I actually _am_.

Dorian looks over the landscape with me, shaking his head and sighing. "Where and _when_ , I believe."

The ground around us is cracked, pale dirt sprouting little red crystals. What grass there is- is a weird brownish-purple color and looks really…sinister.

A couple of Felandaris plants are growing around, which is weird- the spiny little plant even seems to be _flowering_. And even though I trust nothing growing in the weird sand-ground- I gotta pluck one.

Dorian is muttering to himself while attempting to step nowhere near any of the crystals sticking out of the ground. They're basically everywhere, every couple inches there's another cluster of the little shimmery bastards.

So I reach into my pack for a book, and I pluck the biggest flower on the Felandaris I see, then I stick it between the pages. It's the book Solas gave me about barriers and ambient magical energy- I've been piecing on it in-between doing everything else.

I really wanted to avoid this part, so I even warned Dorian and Solas that Alexius would probably try to use time magic on me- but it seems the warning wasn't enough.

It was so hard just to walk up and talk to Dorian about it, too! He's been avoiding me since we had that argument/discussion about Slavery. Solas seems to have forgiven me for going easy on him, but Dorian seems to think I could've gone easier.

I really couldn't. It was all I could do to stop from snapping something like 'morality is not subject for debate, it's wrong. Period.' But I really do think I can help him evolve and when I set my sights on Tevinter, it will be helpful to have Dorian in an influential place, ready to assist.

Well, I'd be assisting _him_ , actually. It's _his_ country and I fully plan to stand _behind_ him while he works on the reforms. I mean sure, I'll follow my own agendas, but _Dorian_ has to be the one to really change things.

I pluck all the flowers I can while Dorian is focusing on the Red Lyrium Crystals and eventually run out of pages. The book is stuffed full.

So I shove it back in my pack and walk over to stand next to Dorian, avoiding stepping on the bigger crystals. "So, shifted in time and space?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure where or when exactly we are." He responds, shifting in place. "He was attempting to displace you in time completely, but I countered the spell. I was ready for him, after we discussed the possibility he might try something like this…" Dorian shakes his head and reaches up to stroke and pinch his mustache. "I was able to throw the spell off, but I couldn't completely stop it."

"So." I put my hands on my hips and purse my lips. "First we find people and find out where and when we are."

He turns his head and smiles a little at me. It's a start. "People in this wasteland?"

"Even if there's just monsters, we could probably find something helpful." I shrug.

Dorian looks over my head and his body goes rigid, hand reaching up for the staff on his back. "Behind you!"

I spin on my heel and step back, covering Dorian with my body and clenching my left hand, readying myself to make a barrier…but it's the weirdest thing. The mark doesn't seem like it wants to cooperate. Like it's attempting to pull jelly out of the air, it's so thick and unresponsive.

"It's you," says Cassandra. Standing across the way, sword in her hand. "It can't…be you." Her voice wavers around that last part.

"That is the mark." And there's Solas, walking out from behind her. "I would recognize that energy anywhere."

They both shimmer a subtle red in their skin, and their eyes are muddy gray-brown-red.

Dorian clears his throat. "Ah. Hello. It would seem we are…well, a bit out of place."

"Time and space places to be more specific." I drawl. "With time travel, we should've ended up in the same place we were before, but there's no castle around us…" I can't bring myself to take my eyes off red!Solas. He always seemed the most tragic version of Solas and seeing him in-game would always tug at my heartstrings.

That was nothing compared to now.

"It isn't far." Solas assures me with a pointed gaze. "I will assume that you have some kind of plan to go back? You would be far more panicked otherwise."

That surprises me a little. "I…yes. I do. Or well, I assume _we_ do." I glance at Dorian. "We're both thinking the same thing, right?"

"Get the amulet and try to reverse the spell? Yes." Dorian responds. "It may not be as easy as all that, but what other choices do we have, really."

"The amulet." Solas sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. It's a very tired movement. "Alexius likely still has it on his person."

"And it won't be easy getting to him, let alone getting it- yes?" I ask.

"You would need all of us." Cassandra cuts in, still looking fragile, disbelief still clear on her face. "Many of us would die to stop Alexius, but to die for you when we are not sure you will succeed…"

"I've never asked anyone to die for me." I slice my hand through the air. "And I won't ask now. I only ask for help, and if you want to give it- then do so. If not, do not." People died because they chose to, for a cause, for their families-- for their own reasons. I gave them hope and pointed them in a direction, but they'd have joined up somewhere else if they needed to.

I won't pretend I haven't caused deaths, I am directly responsible for some of them, sending people on missions and to...talk to people who we suspected were hostile. But I would have let them refuse, and told them so.

Her expression clears, just a little. "You are truly…you."

"Yes, Cassie. I'm me." I nod once. "Good on you for the skepticism though." I grin.

Her lips curve in the fascimile of a smile. "We will…need to talk about this. With the others."

"You are both a bit…ah… what's the word?" Dorian is stroking his mustache again, looking thoughtful. "Too accepting of our presence."

"Nik warned you and I that Alexius would attempt time magic." Solas asserts. "We agreed it was a possibility. You disrupted his spell, anyone could see that. We knew you were not dead. We did not know where or when you were sent, but we knew one day…we would find out."

"Solas has been preparing the men for your return." Cassandra says, a little stonily. "He tells them your return will be as the Herald of Peace."

I lift a brow. "The people were that hopeless?"

His chin raises and his eyes glimmer at me in something I recognize as low-key approval. "Many of our people threw themselves on a blade simply to be done with this world." He responds. "I still had hope. I gave them theirs."

Taking a deep breath and sighing deeply, I nod my head and lick my lips. "Okay. I'll figure something out."

Can't be too hard to cure red lyrium poisoning and purify the Blight, right?

My mark sputters as if hissing at me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solas was so surprised to see you in-game, but also wasn't surprised at all, and adapted pretty fast.
> 
> To fix this discrepancy-- I did a thing.


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating tomorrow, the day after tomorrow and the day after that-- I'm fairly certain I can promise three days of daily updates after today. lol.
> 
> I think I'm back! Maybe a bit erratic, but really flippin' rollin' with words.

Cullen and Iron Bull were skeptical when we first showed up, but apparently Solas's word is worth a lot more to them in this world, after everything they've been through

Cassandra told me some of it while we walked back to the Inquisition's base. The fall of Orlais, the demon army and the concentrated attacks against Ferelden and the other countries. It was like Corypheus had people everywhere and we'd only begun making connections in those places.

They lasted for ten years, rather than the original one we were supposed to travel forward from the game.

Because of my beginning connections in Orlais, Ferelden and even the connections that Varric had to the Free Marches, the connections that Hawke and his entire band had to everywhere- thanks to those connections, they didn't go down easy.

After Corypheus started his campaign, after I was gone…Cassandra asked Varric if he knew anything about where Hawke was, and since the world was at risk- he contacted him and the whole crew from Kirkwall joined up.

No one even seemed to care that Anders was there so long as he could push back the red lyrium corruption and heal their wounds. They still hated him, but they benefitted too much from his existence to kill him. He eventually died from a kamikaze attack he and Hawke both participated in to allow the rest of their forces to escape.

It's both sad and fitting that they died together in this world, that they died doing something good that they could be proud of. Still, in my world- I'm going to make damn sure they do things they can be proud of for a _long_ fucking time before they go that way.

I didn't ask what happened to any of the Kirkwall gang after that, and in fact asked Cassandra _not_ to tell me how they all died. How the original band from the Blight died either, after she told me they joined up, too. I didn't want to know what happened to Fenris and Zevran in this world. It wouldn't be happening in mine- that's all I needed to know.

The knowledge would be useless as soon as I went back to change the past anyway, so what was the point in torturing myself with the information?

Solas never took his eyes off me from the moment they recovered us, and he gave me a strange look when I made that request. Probably because those aren't the people that I know the best. I didn't have to ask not to be told about our own circle of friends, though. Cause they didn't want to talk about them as much as I didn't want to hear it.

Dorian asked endless questions of Solas, who seemed both annoyed and relieved at the same time. Annoyed that he was apparently taking up his attention when he could be staring at me with an intense expression on his face, or annoyed because Dorian didn't already know what he needed to- I dunno.

Relieved maybe because it was an indication that he'd been right to keep the people hopeful, that this all was hitting him as proof that he'd been right to use their faith to prop them up and keep them fighting.

Eventually, on the way over, I started staring back. I couldn't really stop at that point, I was caught in his gaze.

Pain lie there, and anger. Rage of the sort that eats you from the inside out. And guilt, as well. His eyes were full of so much it would take me a lifetime to decipher everything in them completely, to analyze them and tease them out and address them…

Plus I began to notice the scars that stood out on his face and throat in sharp relief when the sun was up. Cassandra and Cullen have a few in obvious places- Bull has more. But Solas's are…pale. Almost translucent, so well healed they're straight and narrow, like mine.

Dorian and Cassandra are having a conversation with Cullen and Iron Bull, off with some of the remaining mages. There aren't many sanes one left, apparently. The Lyrium affects mages the fastest- they had to start rationing to feed the mages untainted food for longer while their troops and themselves…well, while they had to eat the tainted food and drink the tainted water.

When they remembered that I wondered about Dragons being resistant to the taint because of something I said I recalled reading once- they hunted a couple down that weren't yet dead or corrupted and killed them for their blood and meat. It was such a trivial conversation to me at the time, but I can remember Leliana and Cassandra being very interested in the theory.

They lasted so long because of the knowledge I gave them about the Blight, small though it was. The blood and the meat…it lasted just long enough to change their body chemistry and make them last longer.

Cassandra has scales here and there on her skin in places that I didn't notice at first. I thought it was armor.

Solas doesn't seem to, but that doesn't mean they aren't somewhere on him, hidden under his own armor. Which is the battlemage armor I had made for my rogue-mages. Made of really basic materials but with durability, protection and comfort all in mind.

His armor is just as patchy as his original outfit was. Dragonscale has replaced the leather cloak-coat-thing though it's patched with something rougher in places where I assume someone got a lucky shot in.

"Okay." I sigh and lean back before the fire that Solas started after everyone walked off talking strategy. "You're staring at me, and it's somewhat explainable by the whole…me being gone for ten years but I can't figure out what you're looking for."

Solas tilts his head and blinks placidly. "I am not looking _for_ anything. I am simply looking."

"Yeah I figured that was part of it, but this is a little much." I respond, frowning. "I mean, I know I'm basically like 'the last hope' and  everything-"

"This has nothing to do with that." He responds. "Even without the mark, we may have been able to adapt to the world without the Veil, if you had been there."

I blink a couple times and rub my eyes. "I don't see how," I know I sound exhausted and I can't help it. This is going to be a long conversation and I can feel the drain already.

"The Veil disappearing was…not the problem." He says, sounding just as exhausted as me. "The removal was not smooth. Waves and eddies of Fade magic descended upon the world and disrupted the natural order. Corypheus took advantage of that chaos to twist more spirits into demons and corrupt the energy of the Fade itself."

His head dips and his eyes close, then.

"This is all the…stuff. Between the other stuff." I suddenly realize, looking at the uncovered ground near me, underneath the blankets they threw down for me to sit on. "The Fade used to fill in the spaces between everything, so when it came back corrupted…how did the world last ten years this way?" I thought it was a slow spread, but it was _everywhere_ in _everything_ , wasn't it?

"The dragon's blood was not simply a drink." He responds. "We ground their bones, made their blood into a powder…used it to keep the farmlands we had as pure as possible for as long as we could. Odd plants grew that were safe enough to eat- they adapted to the Blight rather than simply subverting it. Sucked it out of the ground and consumed it to create fruits that also fought off the corruption."

"That…is legit." I say, a little awed. "What do you guys call them?"

"They call them Drake berries, though they're the size of those Tevinter fruits…mangoes, I believe?" He squints at the fire. "They fight the corruption but they also spread a different kind- as the blood and bone dust do when ingested. It changes you on the inside, until your body can fight off the taint…"

"It isn't corruption." I say quietly and reach over to grasp his sleeve. I don't want to overstep my bounds, but-

His hand moves so fast I don't see it, and suddenly our fingers are interlaced and I realize he's wearing like two layers of gloves.

The subtle shine of his skin and eyes, the red…it doesn't leak thorugh anywhere near his hands. "I knew you would say that." He replies, expression lighter than before, though not by much. "You would have known just what to say to them, to make them feel blessed by this, rather than cursed."

His head bows and his shoulders hunch, hand squeezing mine as if anticipating me trying to pull away. "I was unable to…find the words. In the end…our soldiers believe themselves monsters or aberrations of nature."

The noise I make is wounded and sounds a little like a mewling kitten. "I…I probably would've told them that every scale or internal change was one more sign that they were still fit to fight. One more reminder that they were willing to do anything to bring the world back to order. But they still might not have believed me." I whisper. "I don't blame you for any of this, Solas."

"How can you not?" He asks, rubbing his face with his fingertips tiredly. "You warned not only Dorian, but also myself. You told us this was a possibility and…and it happened regardless. I was powerless to do anything."

"Solas." I shift closer and he moves toward me to avoid me touching the tainted ground. So we're sitting with him half-off the blanket and me leaning heavily into his side with my arm wrapped around his waist. "The fact that you're still alive, is a testament to how truly powerful you all have got to be."

He's staring into the fire with a pained expression.

I squeeze him hard and lean over to grasp his jaw and turn his face towards me. Because he doesn't believe me. Maybe thinks I'm being kind or that I'm ignoring the fact that he apparently froze up in the face of time magic.

Because he believes he really was the cause of all this- simply by being unprepared for it. But this particular eventuality is not his fault. I should've been able to stop this…but there are reasons I couldn't.

So I pull his face toward me and I kiss him, not hard or deep. Just a soft press of my lips against his before I try to pull away.

I don't get very far before he pulls me back in with a gloved hand tangling in my hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehehehe, those of you who didn't read the original probably didn't see that coming.


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some iffy stuff surrounding FenxShiral, so I'mma just stop using their resources and figure out Elvhen from Canon sources as well as from fanon sources such as Katie's Best Guess at Elvhen Dictionary.
> 
> I can't wait for tomorrow and I get to see all your guys reactions to this thing I did...
> 
> hehehehe
> 
> For now, have this!

After the kiss ended, Solas had a crisis, because of course he did. He's glowing with Red Lyrium. He actually called me an idiot.

And then distanced himself every time I tried to step toward him and wouldn't stop until I swore to him I wouldn't touch him again, which okay- I should've known better to begin with. Cause firstly, Red Lyrium, and secondly…in this world, it would be safe to tell him a few things…so I should've done that first.

I just didn't want him to think I blamed him for this future. This universe. Sure, I can blame him for the conclave, and later if he still tries to destroy Thedas instead of taking my ideas to acclimatize it instead… _that_ will be his fault. But this? No. This isn't his fault.

"You knew…who I was, who I am…the entire time we knew each other." He's having trouble wrapping his head around this.

We're sitting in his tent now, because I insisted we needed to have a private conversation and promised him it wasn't about what just happened, but something bigger. He didn't quite believe me even as he was putting up eavesdropping wards and shit, but the cautious look in his eyes was…well, it's obvious half of him wanted- against his better judgment -for me to just reach out again.

That broke my heart, just a little.

He's been alone for longer than ten years- but for ten years he's been more alone than he ever has been before. Everyone seems to look to him for guidance and wisdom, explanations and approval for their thoughts and ideas- Cassandra and Cullen deferred to him about me and it seems they do about everything else, too.

Rather than making him feel secure, it seems to have simply exhausted him.

"Before we knew each other." I correct him. "To me…you weren't supposed to be real, none of this was. But whether you were just a hallucination or if I was dead or…in another world for real…no matter what, I wasn't going to let _anything_ happen to Thedas."

He's sitting across from me on the bedroll, not so concerned with keeping his distance now, except when it concerns his bare skin. That was part of his freak-out. That he'd… _taint_ me.

Peering into my eyes with something like awe, he asks me…"Did you…did anyone from your world…"

He struggles with the question and I cut him off. "We're not your, like…gods. Or anything. We're more like…I dunno, seers? I'm pretty sure."

The instant relief and disappointment are there in equal measure and confuse me. "I see."

"See what? Why do you look so sad?" This shouldn't move him one way or the other.

"It is…foolish." His expression is tight and his brows are drawn together. "In the time you were gone, I had to make you seem Divine." His lips part and he looks at a loss for a moment.

And something hits me. "You started to believe it."

Our eyes lock for like a second, and I can see it there. The crushed belief that I would sweep in and instantly fix everything.

And I know what he felt like when he woke from Uthenera and discovered he couldn't help the Elves. Before he decided they weren't people, before…before he decided to destroy Thedas.

This helpless feeling that you've failed before you've even begun swallows me in an instant. And then he looks away and it crashes over me with all the force of a stampeding Druffalo.

"You _wanted_ it to be true." I squeeze my hands together in my lap.

He's not looking at me when he says, "I wouldn't have minded if it were."

In other words: I didn't have hope you'd fix everything, but if you did- I'd have been happy about it.

Which is basically my own approach to everything. Be open to good possibilities, but suspect the worst and prepare for them.

"I'm sorry I'm not-" I stop, throat closing. I've never felt guilty for not being a divine entity before.

"I am not blaming you for not being a goddess." He mutters and turns away from me a little further. "I never thought you were…but I remember you…quite generously."

"You mean cleverer and more proactive than I am?" I ask, smiling a little when he turns to look at me. I'm pretty sure my eyes are still glimmering with unshed tears, but this…isn't about me. "It's a common thing to do when someone dies, disappears or leaves your life. You either make them into a caricature of evil, or a paragon of virtue- depending on whether or not you liked them."

There is a flicker at the edge of his mouth. "I do remember your explanations about grief. I…attempted to use what you taught me to help the soldiers. Cole also…" There is a bright, hot pain blooming in my chest as I watch his expression twist.

"It's not going to happen in my world." I tell him.

He inhales sharply. "It happened _here_."

"I know." I respond. "But in another world, he'll survive. You know if I were here…I'd have died before I let anyone hurt him."

There is a low-key chuckle that builds in his chest but doesn't quite escape his lips. "Do you know I wasn't even surprised to find that you were open-minded about Spirits? After so long of being completely surprised by everything you do, I was numb to it. It worried me."

I frown. "Worried you?"

"It is not as though I believed you were…" He pauses. "You were simply decent and adamant about decency. No one else I had met of the Human species in Thedas…cared. Quite so much. Not about elves, not about…"

"Not about anything but other Humans like them?" I ask tentatively. "It's the same where I'm from, really."

"Without elves and the other races you say do not exist there…how do they separate people from each other?" He asks, curiosity shining through his wrong-color eyes.

"Every way imaginable." I respond. "Skin color, sexuality, gender identity, religion…economic status…"

"I suppose it is not _quite_ that different, then." He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. "Silly to assume that the world that created you would not need the same problems to create someone with your values, I suppose."

Solas didn't really expect me to be some kind of goddess, I know that. He didn't believe me to be, either. But…

He's been here in this hellish nightmare that slowly got worse over the past ten years. He and the others have fought and survived until now through sheer willpower- inner strength is not lacking in any of them…

But over time he'd have remembered me more and more fondly because the world became harsher and harsher and his memories would have been filtered through an entirely new, more awful, scope.

He knew Alexius had used a time spell, knew that Dorian had disrupted it- but as time went on, he would have probably started doubting whether we'd show up. Whether we'd show up in any of their lifetimes, even. And the longer it went without Dorian and I showing up…the more he'd allow those thoughts to creep in.

He'd keep enough of his skepticism to stay rational, but when your brain copes and goes through the trouble of presenting a comforting lie to you that you wouldn't mind believing- it's hard to let go of.

"I guess." I respond, smiling a little. "So. I'm sure you have questions.…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A certain someone's review made me feel so good that I stayed up past midnight to post this just so I could say I had some restraint and actually waited till 'tomorrow'.
> 
> Good night!


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm updating so late today. I had some pain last night with my teeth which made it hard to sleep so I slept basically all day.
> 
> Here's an update, though!

After it was decided that everyone would help take Alexius's castle, Cullen and Cassandra rode off in different directions, leaving Dorian, Bull, Solas and I in their camp alone.

They were going to find the scattered camps of the Inquisition soldiers and mages still left around and bring them back here. Bull is still skeptical about storming the place, but perked up a bit when I pointed out we just needed to get to Alexius. We didn't really need to make ourselves known.

The army would just be in waiting in case it all went sideways. To divide his forces.

I was shown the blight-resistant fruits and sneakily picked out the seeds to stow away in a pocket of my pack while I ate them. They were really cool looking, both the fruits and the seeds. The fruit a lump of blood red with black on the top and bottom, the seeds black with a red shine.

Then, I began asking questions that I really needed the answers to.

Dorian is pacing around the camp, muttering to himself as he tries to figure out how to cast in this new environment, so it's a good time to strike up conversation about things he shouldn't know. Bull is walking further out, around the perimeter and he won't stop until the others get back, so we're clear there too.

Last night I answered questions that Solas had about my world and my knowledge of his…I figure he can return the favor without too much problem, now.

"So, you don't know how the mark works magic, at all?" I ask, a little disappointed.

"The mark does things it was never intended for," he says. "Magic outside of veil manipulation was never its intended purpose."

"But I thought your Foci helped you work magic? Or was it a special one?" I pop another piece of the Drake berry fruit and marvel at the rich flavor. He assured me it only changed your body on the _inside_ to make you more resistant to the taint and I wouldn't be growing scales like them unless I ate dragon meat or drank dragon blood…

Which I'm a little disappointed about, to be quite honest. The odd patch of scales might be a little strange but I also think it'd be really cool to technically be part dragon.

His lips curve in a slight smile, so much weight lifted from his eyes since last night. So relieved to know that I know, that I've always known…he almost seemed happy about it while he was asking me questions before. "My…My Foci was… _repurposed_ once I realized what I had to do." He falters a bit, but finishes strong.

"You never really fully explained why you had to do it, though." I say, holding out a piece of fruit and grinning when he takes it from me with an eye roll. "You just said 'every alternative was worse' and that they were going to destroy the world?"

"There were many reasons it needed to be done." He says, grim and stoic. "Not all of them…would be easy for me to explain or for you to comprehend. Without magic, without a world made of magic…it wouldn't make sense."

Okay, I can accept that, sorta. "But you locked them away, and then you were fine with leaving them alone and not killing them while they were weak or vulnerable…so you had to have some kind of hope for something." I say, narrowing my eyes at him. "Unless you just bought into the whole 'god' thing and believed they _couldn't_ be killed."

"They wouldn't have disappeared so easily, even were I to do so," he retorts. "Some fragment of them would have lasted through the centuries."

"Like Mythal inside of Flemeth?" I ask.

There is something bright in his eyes when he answers, both happy and sad. "Yes."

"But she's still only a piece of herself," I remind him gently. "Wouldn't they have been the same? Weak enough maybe you could even keep them from reforming or bonding to anyone somehow?"

He shakes his head. "To do that would be to deny them the chance to…" He frowns up at the sky for a moment. "I suppose I _have_ hoped they would snap out of it after all, though I thought myself smarter than that."

The firelight jumps over the lines of his profile and his eyes are almost normal in this light. The red glow under his skin is also muted with the light of the fire overshadowing…

"You are staring." He's still looking up, but his lips are pulled into that smug smirk I know so well.

"It's why I can never look at you, back in our own time," I respond. "I get lost."

His head drops and turns so he can stare at me, expression flat again. "I wouldn't imagine there is much to look at."

Lifting a brow, I ask- because oh my god, what? "Why?"

"When I awoke from Uthenera, my acolytes helped me to alter my appearance." He blinks placidly. "Only by degrees, but I am far removed from the man I once was. Similar enough to cause a second look, but…" He narrows his eyes at my rapidly climbing amusement. "It is not funny."

"You think you're unattractive." I'm trying so hard not to laugh, throat closing up a little, eyes tearing. "Oh my god."

"I do not think. I know. It is not my fault you are…unconventional." His ears are flicked back, like I'm insulting him!

"Solas, by who's standards?" I wipe tears from my eyes and breathe. "The ancient Evanuris who could change their appearance on a whim? Who could decide anything was beautiful and make it as unattainable as possible to humble the masses?"

There is a strange darkness to his expression. "Yes. And simply by being an elf, most would discount any attractiveness there was. Or relegate me to a fetish object."

"Yeah well, people from my universe love elves, we have nothing against you." I shrug. "There are quite a few fetishists there, I won't lie. But I didn't even really like you that much till I got to know you better."

"Before we even met," he deadpans. "You say it was much like watching it happen in the Fade, but with many possible paths to take and options to choose from." There's curiosity there again. "Was there an option to subvert this?" He gestures around us.

I sigh and shake my head. "I might've been able to stop myself from coming here, but this universe would still have existed. At least now I can help you and you can help me." Looking away from him, I bite my bottom lip. "I want to help you take down the veil."

He's rigid, I can see from out of the side of my eyes. "Why?" A simple question, and then an aborted movement and another. "If you love Thedas as much as you say you do?"

"Well obviously I think you're going to go about it wrong." I shift and curl my knees up to my chest, staring at the fire. "There's nothing that says we can't just…slow it down. Maybe thin the veil all over Thedas until eventually it dissipates on its own."

"Why do it so slowly?" He asks, muttering quietly. "Why remove it at all?"

"It causes problems for Thedas on its own and it's…eventually going to fall anyway." I shrug. "Too many places have been thinned and broken open…eventually it'll be like it was when I disappeared and the veil came down at first here."

His expression twists in pain when I glance over and I feel a heavy weight settle in my chest.

"I want to acclimatize the people of Thedas to the Fade." I say.

His head turns and he locks eyes with me. "Acclimatize."

"I want to get them used to it, used to spirits and magic." I confirm and smile a little tightly. "I can save a lot of people just by building the inquisition the way I have been."

The surprise and then amusement that breaks over his face is unexpected. "You have been planning this from the beginning. Even when you were uncertain you would survive."

"Yeah well…" I clear my throat. "I figured if I _did_ survive, I had better make it count."

He leans close enough to wrap his arms around me and bury his face in the curve of my neck and shoulder. " _Fen'Harel enansal_ , _Fenlin_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Misto Called it on the seeds and junk, lol
> 
>  
> 
> Fen'Harel enansal- Fen'harel's blessing, blessing of Fen'Harel, Dread Wolf's Blessing
> 
> Fenlin- Wolf blood/Wolf Pup/Little wolf if you wanna stretch


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note here, I am not longer using FenxShiral's Project Elvhen-- from here on out, I think Solas and Nik will just be having the italicized conversations that mean they're speaking in Elvhen.
> 
> If you want to know why, check out this link-- and please don't use them yourself.
> 
> http://saarebitch.tumblr.com/post/155436086046/are-people-seriously-still-using-that-project
> 
> Also, please don't bother saarebitch with questions about this-- if you need to ask something, ask me in the comments section.

From the time he gives me the blessing, up till we sneak into the fortress, Solas sticks to me like glue. Not always touching me, but always near or always looking at me.

After pushing more of the fruits on me, and I soon figured out _why_ -

He started to reach out to me with bare fingertips and found still moments to place a kiss to my hair or my cheek or- on one particularly surprising occassion, my throat.

He was particularly smug about the way I'd reacted to _that_ , the smirky jackass.

Without that barrier between us, he feels freer to seek out the contact I kind of already knew he needed. He just never felt safe to reach out to me like this- because he doesn't know I know. And also because…there'd be expectations, to his mind. I'd expect something from him, so he can't get close.

Either because it would hurt both of us, or because he'd consider it to be cruel to hurt _me_ like that. Either way…I think I need to do something about this touch-starving he's doing. He's not gong to become touchy-feely all of a sudden, so…I'll have to think of something for that.

It really wasn't any different from the game, in a lot of ways- the way to get to Alexius.

I found the shards of red stone that we needed to use to open the door, one by one. Instructing Solas and the two other mages with us to cast barriers that would block sound from the rooms where Alexius's assistants were hiding.

I found his notes, I freed Leliana and I even managed to save that woman the two Tevinters murdered in the Dungeons no matter what I did in the game to try and stop them.

She basically had to stay put with one of the scouts so an alarm wouldn't go up, but after Dorian and I are gone…they'll be able to get her out. I hope.

Solas has been trying to talk me into telling the Solas of _my_ world what I know. I tried to explain that the other him is different and probably wouldn't react as well as he did, but he keeps insisting I tell him. I told him I always intended to…at a certain point in the storyline that I know is going to happen.

Right before Corypheus is finally defeated, I'll have to tell him to get him to stay. Right after the Temple of Mythal.

That seemed to satisfy him and annoy him at the same time.

When we finally get the door open, I think about what I know. With so much of Alexius's information on the Blight, with his absolute ignorance of how time travel and alternate universes work-…well.

"Alexius." I pause just inside the room he's enclosed himself in and feel a pang in my heart when I see Felix off to the side. Crouched and wide-eyed, looking like a darkspawn.

"I knew you were coming." Alexius drawls sadly, walking down the steps from his throne. "It was only a matter of time."

"Yeah well, time is the key there." I walk with Dorian toward Alexius. He seems surprised that the Magister isn't just throwing fireballs at us. "And I have something to offer you, I think."

"You can offer me nothing." We're about a table length apart when we all stop walking. "The Elder one comes soon, to dispose of me…"

"I can give you Felix." I respond. "No matter what happens to him now, I can go back- I can cure him. I know things you didn't." I turn my head and point to the husk of a man off to the right of the room. "Does he even talk anymore?"

When I turn my head back, his own is bowed. "No. But he is still my son."

"I can give you back the son you knew." I tell him. "Just give us the Amulet, so I can fix this. _You_ will be punished for this." I tell him, firm and sure. "But Felix shouldn't have to be."

"Well said." Dorian says quietly, giving me a look that's so approving it makes my chest hurt.

"How would you save him, if I cannot, even now?" Alexius almost seems angry. "Dangling false hope in my-"

"It isn't false." Solas is walking around the side of the throne room, hands behind his back, staff held sideways and ready in his hands there. "The Herald is now aware of the myriad ways in which we were able to prolong our own lives in the face of the taint. With that knowledge she could save many in the past." He's caught on to the deception.

"Just hand it over, and I can fix what Corypheus did to screw you over." I tell him. "He used the Blight to corrupt Felix further, not cure him. I can at least give him another decade, if nothing else. He won't lose his mind, he'll have time to father children…he'll live." I know this is probably cruel in its own way.

But it's true. Even if it won't be the Felix he knows, some version of him will live. _Our_ Felix might have a chance to _live_. This is something I can do. Something I can make better than the game, I can _do_ it!

I see the shimmer of Leliana's stealth cloak off to the side, and I know she's about to grab Felix. That was never going to change, even though I told her to keep watch with Cassandra.

So I walk up closer to Alexius with my hands outstretched as if showing how harmless I am.

Solas is close enough behind him to do something if he tries to attack.

"Please, Alexius. I don't want to cause anyone undue pain." I really just don't want to fight him- he's been exposed to Red Lyrium too, though he doesn't quite glow like everyone else. No matter how old or weak he is, he's been soaking up power for a decade. If it weren't for the fact I didn't think we could win without Solas, Leliana and possibly Bull behind us getting injured- I'd kill him now.

The amulet is around his neck.

But I'm too late.

Leliana appears with her blade across Felix's neck. Alexius turns and his body goes rigid.

And then Solas's staff blade is sticking through the front of his chest from behind, having gone straight through his heart.

As he yanks the blade free, Alexius falls to his knees, coughing up blood.

Dorian tries to dash up to him, but I stop him with a hand flung wide- while my other hand grabs the amulet and rips the cord from around his neck. "Dorian. He's not _your_ Alexius. And his blood is probably tainted. We have some immunity from the fruits, but it's not enough." I say while backing up, pulling Dorian with me.

I hope I didn't get any on me. I feel bad, but the Alexius before me kinda deserves this.

Dorian curses under his breath as Alexius falls, and Leliana cuts Felix's throat. "I'm so sorry, Alexius." He whispers.

"We can still save them, Dorian." I remind him with a gentle touch to his shoulder. "But this Alexius has done too much. We'd had to have killed him anyway, so these people in this world…could have a chance."

Dorian grasps my hand on his shoulder tightly. "I know. I…I just…it's difficult to watch someone die, even if you know…"

"I know what you mean." I mutter and hand him the Amulet as he turns toward me. "Here, figure out how to send us back…I need to talk to everyone."

Bull is stalking up next to us with his axe slung over his shoulder. "Didn't know you long before you disappeared- but the fact that you could just show up and we could do this…damn."

"This wasn't me." I tell him with a small smile. "This was you guys…you just didn't have a reason to do things this way before I got here."

He snorts. "We just wanted to level the place. Probably why we could never win."

"I highly doubt all of you missed the possibility." I frown. "You had to have-"

"Nik." Solas has dropped his staff next to Alexius, glaring down at the thing as if it's been ruined. "The Red Lyrium has taken its toll on our mental faculties. Even if it had occurred to us, most of us…become confused easily. Without someone untainted to lead the way and give orders…"

"Oh." I feel a little ashamed I didn't realize that sooner.

Solas steps around Alexius's body as if just being near it upsets him. And so many things make sense now. Not just the way he's deferring to me even though I basically just got here- that could be explained with other reasons…but the other things?

How carefree he seems? How eager he is to be around me- even now stepping close enough to share warmth, hands curling around my hips-

He pulls me forward and I don't think about anything else. I know Dorian is watching and really don't care. I know as soon as we leave I'll never see _this_ Solas again and that hurts…but this moment…

Wait.

I pull away from him slowly, almost forgetting why I need to when his teeth rake my bottom lip on the way. "Solas…" I'm a little embarrassed how breathy my voice just got.

He stares at me from an inch away from my face and I can see everything he's been through hasn't been healed by having me here. And that's okay. It'll probably never heal completely…but I can…

"I can give you this." I step back and pull the mark up to stare at it in earnest.

Dorian is still fiddling with the Amulet when I glance over, though that smirk on his face says he's not going to be merciful when we get back to our own time. I'll have to have a talk with him about that. But for now…

I focus on the Mark and the endless energy all around us. With Alexius dead, there's no one blocking my efforts to use it to work magic. I don't know how it can, I don't know how I was able to heal the rifts in the castle before- I don't even know if what I want to do is possible.

But I can do _something_. I can _try_.

So I focus on the mark, I focus so hard I can feel the whole world around me melt away.

There's that shadow with the six red eyes again. It narrows them at me, but there's an air of acquiesence about the thing. As if it's gifting me with something, but it's irritated about me asking in the first place. I don't understand it.

And when I come back to myself, to see a copy of me standing next to me…I knew I'd succeeded. Especially since I feel so tired and dizzy, too.

"What…" Solas backs away as the other me opens her eyes.

She turns her head and we stare at each other for a long moment. She has no mark, but she can be here for them. She can make them believe- she can _help_.

And when she smiles and nods- wow, weird -I know we both understand what she has to do. Now all that's left is to explain to everyone else before we have to leave.

It takes a while to calm them all down from their panic at seeing two of me. They really _have_ been mentally and emotionally compromised a lot…

I have to explain that she's just a perfect copy- she and I are the same and she's perfectly solid. But as she grows and changes in the new environment, she'll become a separate person. The me that should've been there all along.

Poor Solas is so freaked out, he doesn't come near us after that until Dorian starts up the portal.

The armies had been signaled and now Alexius's forces, the paltry things they were, were being destroyed in the floors below us.

Solas sidles up next to the other me, keeping his eyes on _me_ me until she grasps his sleeve with sad eyes. Then his head turns and his attention stays with her until the green of the portal swallows us up.

Hopefully, she'll do well enough for them that they can die in comfort, even if the world can't be fixed.

Maybe she'll find a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yeah, this might end up being another AU sometime in the future. Fuck me sideways, I keep doin' this shit.
> 
> Oh, and yeah. Nobody dies in this version. Since I never understood how the original team got captured and stayed captured for so long-- I also don't understand how Alexius-- with so few troops, could actually pose a threat to the actually-still-standing Inquisition.
> 
> They've basically adapted to their taint and the red Lyrium in everything, and it makes them stronger. Whereas the demons and troops that serve Alexius and the Elder One...
> 
> Well, maybe I'll expand on that if I ever write this AU.


	66. Solas POV, Nik POV, Dorian POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am constantly straining my wrists and even sometimes my fingers when I write. Even when I've got good posture and everything-- I need me some wrist braces or something...
> 
> I'm still struggling with my teeth so a lot of the time is spent spaced out with pain meds to avoid the agony-- and I am not even being dramatic, lol.
> 
> I also seem to be catching some kind of cold or sinus cold, so there's a three way whammy there.
> 
> This chapter is a bit longer than usual because it'll take me a while to finish the next ones. I might have to start holding back my chapters and updating only once every three days instead of every day when I have a backlog. I'm sure you'd prefer having a steady supply rather an influx and then a dry spell, right?

Almost as soon as they disappear, they are back again. In a flash of light and a puff of smoke, Dorian and Nik are suddenly standing a few paces away from where they were just a moment before.

A full breath of time in which we all thought them lost. Thought _her_ lost- and even now that it is apparent she has not been-

"Ah!" Dorian catches her as she weaves. "Overdid it with that little trick, didn't you?" He asks.

' _Calm yourself, she lives._ ' I can feel my chest squeezing. I can only remember those eyes staring up at me as she said 'I trust you' and it…

"It's alright that it hurts." A whisper from Cole at my side.

"What…?" The Magister is staring with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. "No! I-" He is lifting the amulet once more, but I will not be too slow this time.

The Fade warps around me, aiding my journey across the short space between my former position and the Magister's arm.

His wrist breaks in my too-tight grip and the shout he releases in response is too loud in the room.

"Solas." Dorian speaks my name as I remove the amulet from the Magister's hand. "I think she needs healing or…something." The puzzlement alarms me more than the request.

Turning and leaving Alexius to the Scouts encroaching on the throne, I walk over to them. It seems the former templars still retain enough power to weaken him, at least.

She slumps against him, eyes closed. "What happened?" I ask as I approach them.

"Well…" Dorian sighs. "She did some amazing feat of magic in a world where the Veil didn't exist. I believe it's…catching up to her."

"What?" I give him a sharp look, but divert my attention to Nik when she makes a small pained noise.

Her face is contorted in agony now. "Nnnnhhh…" Her eyes flicker open and land on me. "S…" Her hand attempts to reach out to me, but falls halfway through the movement.

I catch it as it does and gently surround her with healing magical energy. " _Fenhedis_. What have you done to yourself?" It is as if she has replaced half of herself with Fade energy. Without a direct connection to the Fade, her body is attempting to break down!

"What's wrong?" Blackwall steps forward from the back of the room with Sera. "She alright?"

Sera still has her bow drawn. "Glowy's not gonna blow herself up or anythin' right?"

My eyes turn to the mark, and…I have an idea.

* * *

 

Nik POV

I saw Solas's face before the darkness encroached on my vision. He looked worried and angry and all kinds of sick. Which probably means that I'm fucked up.

I see the red eyes again, but they're smaller. They're set in a large man-shape with a wolfy-headdress…like the one on Fen'Harel in the murals. Made of shadow with two gray eyes underneath it, peeking out from under the snout of the headdress. Not just gray, but the gray of rock. Not silver, not stormy cloud gray, but shimmery rock gray. Which is…different.

" **What…no.** " I blink heavily and shake my head. " **Who are you? A spirit? A demon? You're not…** "

" **You are going to die if this cannot be fixed in time.** " It tells me with a hiss under its very familiar-sounding voice. Lower than it should be, though. " **Why give everything for someone the way you do? Why do such things when you will not benefit- when in fact it might harm you and those you love?** "

I blink again, trying to keep my attention centered on the shadow figure. " **I have to. I have to…be better. I have to do…** _ **better**_ **than them.** "

" **...I know.** " There is a sigh. " **I was hoping the question would be enough…to...** " His lilting voice trails off and there is a sound of frustration. " **Damn it.** "

" **I'm sorry.** " I mumble and feel tears well in my eyes- but isn't this a dream? Should I feel the warmth behind my eyes like this? " **I just want to help.** "

The shadow becomes less of a person and more of a shape, a cloud- that wraps around me and holds tight. " **I know you do.** " He whispers, then inhales sharply. " **Ah. There he is. And he even has a plan. I will leave you to it. If he can stabilize you, I will have no need to attempt it myself.** " His voice is all around me, and I've never felt so…at one with something or someone before in my life.

I have some confusion and go to ask, but he disappears, cloud of darkness fluttering away from me. I reach out and grasp one of the wispy ends for a moment, just savoring the silkiness as it drifts through my fingers. " **Where are you going?** "

" **Nik?** " The voice sounds right this time and I turn to face Solas. _My_ Solas. Not Red, not Black, just…just Solas.

" **I'm sorry…** " I can feel the tears running down my face. " **I didn't think it was bad to help this time. I really didn't.** "

His expression tightens and there is a moment where I wonder if he'll leave me to unravel here, in the darkness. " **I believe you.** " His eyes close and he inhales deeply before opening them again. " **But when this is over, we will discuss it and we are beginning your training in earnest. I preferred not to, thinking that any knowledge would only encourage you to push yourself further…** " He shakes his head. " **But you will do what you want, regardless. I should…prepare you.** "

My head bows. " **I just didn't want you to be alone anymore.** " And then the world becomes too dark and hazy to make sense of anymore.

* * *

 

Dorian POV

Solas takes her from me in a surprisingly quick and easy movement, picking her up and walking toward one of the doorways nearby. "I am finding a room and warding it. Do _not_ disturb me."

As he leaves the room, I sigh and settle against a nearby pillar. "Well. At least _that's_ over with."

And then the doors at the far end of the hall open to admit soldiers in ghastly fur and metal armor with _bows_ on their chestplates and helmets, of all things.

"Or not," I sigh and shove away from the pillar, flicking a glance back at Alexius being secured by the scouts. Felix is standing with him and after this is over, we'll have to have a chat. I don't know if Nik is simply easily taken with people who have some modicum of decency, but she cares what happens to him and…has ideas how to treat the blight-sickness within him.

Anything she can come up with would be a boon, though Felix may refuse on the grounds of having hope dashed to pieces before his eyes one too many times before. I will likely have to convince him.

A rather dashing specimen walks in after those soldiers, sandy blonde hair coiffed perfectly, bronze skin shiny with some kind of oil- oh. Some sort of Noble, then. Those clothes are a bit more fetching than the armors belonging to his guard, but not by much- why are so many Southerners obsessed with furs? Not even the elegantly colored white and black and gray furs but off-color monstrosities?

"Grand Enchanter Fiona." He speaks, voice clear as a bell. "I've been hearing the funniest rumors, you know." He walks through the hall and even the Inquisition members part for him, some of them with open awe on their face. "People have been telling me that you gave Redcliffe castle to a Tevinter Magister..."

"King Alistair…" Fiona appears from the shadows of one of the pillars, her eyes wide and glistening.

' _Ah. A king. Of course._ ' That's why there's all of this…reverence in the room.

"...but I recall Redcliffe Castle as belonging to Arl Teagan." The king finishes, stopping a few feet before the Grand Enchanter.

"Your Majesty…" So surprising when the woman kneels, hands spread out beside her. "I assure you, we never intended-"

"No matter your intentions, I have no choice but to react." The king says.

And then surprisingly, a new voice enters the room. "Only if you kowtow to a bunch of limp-dicked nobles who don't know anything about anything." A rather raunchy statement by a petite blonde woman. Though her blonde seems somewhat…silver as she walks into the all. "I see you trying to run from me, Ali."

"Yelena…" He sighs and turns to face her. "You've said your piece. I can't help the mages any further. It will hurt Ferelden."

She snorts. "Ferelden kinda needs to be hurt."

I recognize that accent and those straight-forward words. "If I may interject?" I question and step forward between the Grand Enchanter and the King. "There are extenuating circumstances that may win the mages a form of…mercy?" I see the realization in his eyes that I'm from Tevinter as he listens to my accent.

The tightening of his expression is expected. "If it's anything blood magic or demon-y, please. _Don't tell me_." The shiver that goes through him is entirely too entertaining. "Lord knows we southerners can't handle that kind of talk."

I feel the laugh escape me more than I can control it. "Time magic, actually. Nik has told me it would be unwise to lie to you, so I'll explain."

I step down next to the king and avail him of the situation. The time travel, the way he'd accidentally moved us not only in time but also in space- the fact that there's an entire universe existing even now that's filled with the Taint and Red Lyrium.

How did Nik know we'd encounter him? Did she anticipate him coming to liberate Redcliffe personally while we were here?

He doesn't quite like my story. At all. "So you're telling me that Fiona was tricked into joining up with Alexius? So what?" He sighs. "She should have known better than to make slaves of herself and all her people."

"She was desperate, you dumbass." The feisty silver-blonde with brown eyes is closer now. She slaps him on the shoulder. "Have you ever been oppressed at all? No! And don't bring up your childhood cause that's not the same thing." She's _pouting_. "She's an _elf_ , Alistair. More than that, she's a _mage_. The only place where mages are free right now _is Tevinter_."

"Just because it made sense to her, doesn't mean it was right!" Alistair crosses his arms and turns to give her a narrow-eyed look. "And you _hate_ Tevinter!"

"Damn straight I do!" She snaps back at him. "Because of that very thing they seem to lack that I have full possession of- compassion for others!"

Well, that hurts a bit. "Now, we aren't all evil bastards you know." I interrupt.

She turns a blinding grin toward me, "I understand that. But what are you doing about it?"

There is a hush in the room at that and the implications don't escape me. "What am I supposed to _do_?"

There's pity in her expression now, and it turns my stomach. "You're supposed to figure that out on your own."

"What the bloody hell does _that_ mean-"

"If you are all finished." Solas's smooth tone interjects from the doorway he disappeared into just a half hour ago…I believe. Has it truly been that long? "Nik is stable, but she cannot speak for herself. She has asked me to parley with you." He directs that at Alistair as he enters the room.

He looks absolutely exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes, skin paler than usual with a somewhat gray cast to it. Eyes…dull.

"The Herald of Andraste?" The petite blonde asks with a bit of excitement. "She's…wait, she's hurt?" There's confusion. Alarm.

"She will be fine, soon enough." Solas responds as he stops before us all. "It is Nik's wish that we extend an invitation to the Free mages and integrate them into all levels of the Inquisition if they accept."

"What does she have to offer us?" Fiona looks positively exhausted.

Solas gives her a long look and tilts his head at her. "I have been told not to speak with _you_ about _them_. But instead to ask the mages themselves. If they are truly free…and as you nearly sold them into slavery without their consent."

Fiona flushes and her ears wick back in that way they usually do when elves have been humiliated or enraged. Rather curious. "I am the Grand Enchanter! My people will not know what to do without me." There is a kind of desperation in her voice.

"That is your failing, not ours." Solas responds, slanting her a severe look. "The Herald would prefer to teach the mages to think for themselves, rather than telling them what they should want for their own good."

The Grand Enchanter's fists ball up at her sides. "What does her worship intend to do with _my_ people?"

"Oh, I can answer that." I laugh a bit, hoping to diffuse the tension in the air. "She has places ready for your people to fill in all levels of the Inquisition. Research, combat, culinary preparation…she is quite excited to get the mages cooking and tailoring- they're her favorite activities."

"The Herald will place the mages as the mages wish to be placed." Solas is rubbing his face with his hands now. "As for those unsure of what they wish to do, she will assign them work until they discover it for themselves."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are all awesome, every single one of you that reads, that leaves kudos, that comments-- even if I don't respond to the comment I do see it and appreciate it.
> 
> Every time the kudos counter gets higher, it gives me a smile and every time I see the bookmarks and subscriptions climb up, it surprises and delights me.
> 
> You guys are the whole reason I can keep writing past the first twenty to thirty chapters. I promise to keep writing this story until it's finished, so long as there are still people around who want to read it.
> 
> I've got some twists and turns coming up-- even some stuff I couldn't fit into the original version but really wanted to! So I promise you won't be bored.
> 
> Thank you for always supporting me and looking forward to my updates-- you make me feel like I'm doing something worthwhile, even though sometimes I feel completely useless I can look at your comments and know my brain is lying to me.
> 
> Thank you. And sorry, I'm feeling emotional today, lol


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got a tooth extracted but I'm not even near out of the woods. Like half my mouth has cavities and one of my other teeth is like, half gone. But at least that tooth won't hurt anymore-- it's one of my problem teeth.
> 
> You guys are awesome and I can't wait to see your reactions to this chapter so I just HAD to update even though I don't have a backlog built up yet.

"It's too early to deal with this shit." I groan and rub my face with my hands.

There are about twenty pages on the desk before me- in the tent that was put up in the Crossroads specifically for this. There are ten more on either side of that twenty page report.

The main report is about how Therinfal Redoubt went down- we got most of the Templars out and a good number of them are outside Haven right now, willing to start taking the weaning solution to get off of Lyrium. A few just wanted to leave and not be involved in anything anymore, which I can't really blame them for…still I think we kinda need to hunt all the ex-templars down.

They could be dangerous, and a lot of them are guilty of rape, murder and…well, they just need to be found and figured out.

"You are the one who stayed up until midnight attempting to settle the Mages into the Crossroads." Solas is sitting off to the side with his own reports, looking irritable. "And then insisted we wake you at dawn."

Dorian is sitting next to him, _writing_ some reports. "Be honest, would you have trusted anyone else to do it? And we were both busy attempting to set up contact with the rebel mages in that _cave_ , so _we_ couldn't have overseen it."

"Solas gets pissy when I lose sleep, which makes no sense- but whatever." I flick my wrist and grin a little when Solas sends me a dead-eyed look. "What? It doesn't!"

"So what _is_ the situation, precisely?" Dorian asks, scribbling on his own little clipboard-thing with a candle on top. For serious. Solas has one too, sitting off to the side on the little bench-thing they're sitting on together.

"The Templars are waiting outside Haven. Even before we could get to the Mages, I knew we'd have to split them up- so I figured putting the mages in the areas surrounding the Crossroads would be best. We could have a real village-of-mages feel here." I'm rubbing my eyes again, I shouldn't be. It's only been two minutes since I did it last and I've only been reading a couple hours. Not even non-stop reading, either.

"Is _that_ why you had Cullen send so many men down here, to start building temporary shelters before we left?" Solas squints at me, judgemental ass. I'll sleep later. This is important. "I was under the impression you planned to distribute the denizens of Haven itself."

"I do." Rolling my eyes and turning my attention back to the reports, I go on. "I plan to make it so densely populated with mages and non-mages that you won't be able to tell which is which without somebody throwing a fireball at your head." And therefore kill two birds with one stone. The villagers that are still iffy about mages will get more used to them- and everyone I intend to keep safe from the destruction of Haven _will_ be.

I intend to leave a lot of Templars and other Soldiers that happen to be assholes in Haven. Cole is helping me find the really bad ones and putting them on a list…which is going to be everyone assigned to patrol Haven before, during and after I've sealed the breach.

It's an awful thing to do, but I'd rather the rapists, murderers and unrepentant abusers of power be dead than the ones I can still build into something respectable. I'm a monster in my own way, and there's no excuse for it.

"You're different. You know you are." Cole is leaning against my desk all of a sudden, like he's been there for a while. "You'll _fix_ it. This is good."

"No offense honey, but…" I think the last part. ' _You kinda thought murdering people who were scared was a good idea._ '

His head dips. "I was wrong then, confused. I'm not anymore."

"I can _almost_ puzzle out what you two are talking about, but still…" Dorian makes a gesture beside his head, as if air is blowing through his ear. "Nothing."

"It's not important," I sigh. "Point is, Templars are going to be bedding down permanently in Haven, with some sent out to our other outposts and camps in the Hinterlands. I'm trying to keep everyone close for now. We've got the Hessarians on the Storm Coast…"

Blackwall and Vivienne made it safely back to Haven before us, which I expected. "Blackwall is going to be in charge of what _they_ do. I mean, technically I'm their leader, but _he's_ the commander."

I shuffle through the papers until I find the report from Leliana. "The Red Jennies in Orlais are having a field day giving up information and evidence on the Court of Heralds." I snort and hand one of the reports to Cole.

Without me even saying it, he walks over and hands it to Solas. "Here."

"Thank you, Cole." Solas takes it and looks at the small scrap of paper. "So many indiscretions that shouldn't be punished, and so many more encouraged that _should_ be."

"Every society is fucked up for a while till they can get their shit together." I say off-handedly. "Where I'm from, we had slavery for a long time. Then slowly we began to eradicate it and freed the people we'd stolen from their homes…it still permeated everything though. The attitudes, the laws…they were prevalent even before…" Even before I universe-hopped or whatever. I mean the laws were _better_ …but they weren't perfect.

"Your point being?" Solas is scribbling on his own stack of papers on a clipboard-thing.

"Point being, everyone has to learn things." I respond. "You can't just expect people to spring into being knowing everything that they do that's wrong. Morality is more of a societal construct than it should be." I frown. "Everyone quibbles over small things that are no-brainers when they should be worried about the big stuff." So many people so focused on defending from 'personal attacks' when they should be taking it all in and _learning_ from it.

Ah, and yet another report in Josephine's stack on how many men are interested in 'courting' the Herald of Andraste. Big fat 'NOPE' written over the page should send my signal loud and clear to Josie. She'll write a polite 'no, thank you' I'm sure.

"They don't even know you." Cole says, looking mystified. "They didn't even call you by name."

"No they did _not_." I respond, rolling my eyes. "Half of them are a little wowed by the title, the other half are trying to use it to their advantage."

"What are you talking about _now_?" Dorian can't stand not being in the loop.

Surprisingly, Solas answers him. "She is getting marriage proposals by now, I would imagine."

I blink at him a little. "That's wild. How did you know that? You aren't reading my mail, are you?" I quirk a brow and smirk at him- I rarely get the opportunity to tease him for being too smart for his own good. And I'm half-sure his agents read my mail before I get it, so…

"Anyone as important as you have become, with your reputation, will have _someone_ interested." He responds, not even looking up from his writing. "It is simply the way these things go." Said with an air of forced neutrality. Though the outer curve of one of his eyebrows jumps a bit in the beginning.

' _Can't even tell if that's the truth or not._ ' I mean, he _could_ be reading my mail and _also_ just knew beforehand…

And he's being flat, which he hasn't _stopped_ being since I came back from Red!Thedas. I was the perfect patient for two days, but…we needed to get moving back to Haven. Especially seeing as the King was beginning to get irked at us staying so long.

Remembering how he'd flushed and stuttered after I asked him if there was anything I could do to make him more comfortable and how I completely missed my own innuendo until he did so-

Yeah, that was entertaining once I realized what I'd said. It seemed to make everything worse with Solas though. He barely let the King in, and that was only to prevent a diplomatic incident. Afterwards he was even quieter than usual and only spoke to me when necessary or when I spoke to him first.

Good news? I was able to set up a dialogue between the King of Ferelden and the Herald of Andraste- as well as send Fiona along with some of my Scouts to be his Court Enchanter. My Scouts are going to be protecting Fiona from the asshats who see 'elven mage' and think they can use their nobility status to put their hands on her.

It was a difficult deal to get going- but once Fiona and I came to an understanding (me revealing I know things I shouldn't and that I knew Alistair was her son) it wasn't hard to convince Alistair. After all, he used to be a Templar-in-training or whatever so his people expressing any kind of concern could be met with 'do you doubt my ability to protect myself?' Which would lead to sputtering and denials and shutting-up. Hopefully.

Fiona is still wary of me and confused as to why I'm keeping her secret, but after pointing out to her that the mages wouldn't like following her anymore after this whole situation- she admitted that she knew she'd have to give them all some space. I told her to tell Alistair stories about Duncan, which would break the ice on the journey to Denerim.

"So what are you planning to do with the Templars, Herald?" Dorian says, a little facetiously. "I know you think of them as mostly thugs and murderers, so I'm curious as to how you're going to handle that."

"Easy enough." I respond. "The same punishment will apply as when those villagers hurt the other villagers who tried to protect me from their rampage. They'll be made to do labor, given food and water and whatever else they need- but whatever wages they'd have earned will go to whoever they hurt. If there's a lot of people, we'll split it up between them all somehow."

"I wonder how you think it's different from Slavery, to do so." Solas is muttering to himself, but I hear.

And I feel like I've been punched in the gut.

Then, most surprisingly- Cole gasps and slaps Solas upside the head. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

I don't hear whatever Solas says back because I'm already walking quickly out of the tent and toward the woods. I can just find one of the patrolled paths, hide behind a tree and have my freak-out- then go back to the Crossroads when I'm better.

Isolate, evaluate, resolve. It's always been how I handle this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please god, give me all the comments-- even if you're incoherent or just want to comment with !!! or something. You don't HAVE to, I'm just overexcited. XD


	68. Dorian POV, Solas POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten about a hundred and twenty dollars in donations now and I thank you guys so much for helping me out!

After the poor thing went running out of the tent like a dragon was chasing her, tears in her eyes- I was amused to find the usually calm, collected mage seemed at a loss for how to deal with the spirit smacking him in the head.

"Cole, what-" His brows draw together and his lips become a firm line in-between words.

" _Why_ did you say that?!" Cole demands an answer with his words, it's really quite upsetting. He's usually so even-tempered and patient. "You know it _hurts_!"

"I wonder if Nik actually has a clear reason for why it's different," I cut into the conversation. "Perhaps she simply didn't see the similarities before you pointed it out. After all, they are completely different circumstances." I purse my lips at the dark expression on his face. "What? She gives them the choice to go to another country or organization if they don't want to stay and face the music. Exile or working off your debt. Seems perfectly logical to me."

"Of course it does!" He snaps at me. "You _believe_ in slavery." And then he huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. "Regardless I wasn't pointing out the similarities. I merely wondered aloud what her own beliefs on the matter were. She…usually just _answers_ me." Such confusion.

"Let me ask you something, Solas." I set aside my work materials and get up, walking to the tent and readying myself to step out of the flap.

Cole has already disappeared- probably off to follow her.

"What?" He asks, looking positively _spiky_ in his prickliness.

"If she had said something that implied you owned slaves, would you not be upset with her? As you both seem to think it's the worst possible thing you could do?" I lift a brow at the suddenly blank expression on his face and leave the tent with a quick pivot.

Since I'm certain the young Spirit boy will have Nik well in hand- I must find something else to do.

I am worried, of course- but she has a stable head and support. If she comes to me, I would be happy to help…but we have, after all, just met recently. It is likely I would be out of place.

It was surprising to be welcomed with open arms into the Inquisition. Even more so when Nik announced to everyone in Redcliffe that I had charge of Alexius and the research into curing the blight.

( _I know you can do the job and I trust your integrity._ )

I can still remember her handing one of the fruits she'd apparently stuffed into her pack to Felix. She instructed him to eat the whole thing and took the seeds as he'd picked them out.

He seemed a bit wary of the fruit he was being forced to consume, but he didn't argue with her. I'm sure if he had, she would have explained why she wanted him to eat it. As it was, he assumed she was mothering him.

I suppose she was, in a way.

( _Here, eat this. The whole thing. God, you're so thin- I'm going to bake you pastries when we get back to Haven. And yes, you've gotta come back with us first! I gotta feed you and set up an alliance between house Alexius and the Inquisition!_ )

I had to explain to him _myself_ what the fruit was and what it did. He was understandably flummoxed by the whole ordeal and confessed a few hours later that he felt much less sick than usual. He isn't cured by any stretch of the imagination…

But he's already getting _better_.

( _Dorian, by this time in the day…everything is sore. Throbbing. It's…awful. But I just realized I forgot to take my powders and…it still hurts, but it's so much_ _ **less**_ _than before!_ )

The Herald herself is a bit of an enigma. Nik is open and loving and everything I had ever learned never to show about myself outwardly if I didn't want to be taken advantage of. She stands on her own feet but allows others to help her, which many refuse to do in her situation.

It's almost as if she's two different people. One person when she needs to take control, and a completely different one when there is no need for her at all. So _strange_.

( _Do you need help?) A young woman struggling with her pack and consenting to store it on the wagon._

_(Oh, I can do that for you!) An elderly man attempting to bend over and pick up supplies but unable to go very far._

_(I think she can manage just fine, actually.) A woman happily humming in her garden as we pass by. Nik winks at the young blonde, who giggles in response as she returns to work._

_(Leave him alone, he needs to do it himself._ ) _A young boy with a stubborn jut to his chin when the soldiers attempted to help him with his load. A very slight elven lad. Which is likely the reason they thought they_ _ **needed**_ _to offer their assistance._

Always knows exactly what to say, how to say it and how it will be taken. Sometimes stumbling over her words, but always very forthright. Well.

Unless she's talking to Solas. Then she is _all_ stumbles and seems to enjoy witty repartee that dances around a subject. She does the same with me, but not with quite that much _nervousness_.

Hmm…

* * *

 

Solas POV

She does not reappear in the crossroads until it is time to march back to Haven.

In all honesty, I am relieved at the time apart. It has never occured to me that anything I said could offend her in such a way. It never has in the past…though I suppose there are certain things that shouldn't be discussed so flippantly.

I became too complacent with simply saying anything that entered my head around her. Startling to realize I felt no need to filter my thoughts at all. Not even to make them more understandable. She always seems to simply take my meaning no matter _what_ I say.

She does not seem angry, or overly emotional as she did before…in fact it seems she feels absolutely nothing. Eyes blank, but attentive. Posture straight-backed without rigidity. She replies to questions and requests for orders with calm decorum.

Cole hovers nearby, but soon seems comfortable enough to disappear and shadow the party the way he prefers.

Prodding with my spirit at that emotional climate that she keeps tightly locked away within only serves to confirm my suspicions.

She is roiling with darker colors and textures just underneath herself. I can feel the conflict within and it…it occurs to me that I should perhaps not be doing so when she has not been trained to recognize and reject my presence if she so prefers.

I am in the process of pulling myself away when her climate clings to mine and she turns her head to glance at me over her shoulder. I believe I stop breathing for a long moment as her eyes meet mine.

And then she is looking forward once more and releasing my energy.

I do not have words for how surprising that was.

A few moments to collect myself, and then I pull my horse up next to hers. She glances aside at me, but says nothing. This quiet, absolute acceptance, is daunting.

If I were to pretend it never happened, it is likely she would let it go. For now. But that quiet resolve speaks of patience- not idleness.

"I apologize." I feel something in the center of my being cringe. Apologies have always been difficult for me. "I had not intended to compare your ideas to…I only wished to ask for your thoughts on the differences…"

Still she says nothing, not looking at me but listening. Her spirit reaches out, but stops short of brushing against mine. Before today I was not aware she even _had_ …and now…

"It is sometimes difficult to see the differences." Honesty is likely the only recourse…and I have made a bigger mistake than a simple 'I'm sorry' can fix, I think. "I…rely on you to remind me…that we are not all…"

"That we're not a fascist dictatorship who's enslaving people?" She interjects and her energy surrounds mine, still not quite touching. "Yeah, sometimes I…need you to do that for me, too."

My breathing has stopped, I need to breathe. A sharp inhale and I clear my throat. "I sometimes worry we are crossing lines without knowing it." I do not know one of the words she used, but it is said with a twist to her mouth. Undesirable or perhaps disgusting to her.

"Dude." She addresses me with a laugh. "I worry about that every second of my existence."

And as simply as that, it seems the tension has dissipated.

She pulls her energy back, too quickly- I react. My own spirit reaches back and snags the very tips, releasing almost as quickly as they've attempted to snatch at her.

We both gasp a short breath of surprise and…something else. I can feel heat rushing over my face and stinging my ears.

She is turning bright red. "I…eh…well, I shouldn't be so oversensitive…I think." She is choosing not to mention it, thank god-

I...

When did I adopt _that_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically what I wanted to illustrate is thoughtlessness. The question itself wasn't really all that bad, it was the implication within it.
> 
> Solas didn't actually mean to compare slavery and her work program. It's just that cringey feeling you get inside that makes you feel like 'maybe it ISN'T different. Maybe we're wrong' and he was looking for reassurance. Like when you and your friends grow up saying you aren't going to be your parents and you compare what you do, to what they did and your friends tell you all the ways it's different?
> 
> Next Chapter will show how Nik processed all of it, though probably just in mention. I like the way this was resolved. It's in character for her, I think.
> 
> Also I was illustrating how something can just trigger a panic attack or emotional spiral and there's no way to stop it or control it when you've got anxiety and emotion control issues. You can calm yourself down, but if it comes on with enough strength, you're gonna be overwhelmed fast and hard.
> 
> And afterwards, you can be perfectly fine and even talk about it without any residual twinges sometimes. It all depends on the person and the situation.
> 
> I just figured maybe this could use some extra explanation.


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of filler at the beginning-- but also important information for the structure and running of Nik's Inquisition.

After the initial freak-out, I realized I'd overreacted just a smidge. I mean, sure it was a horrible thing to suggest but…well. Solas suggests horrible comparisons all the time.

He's usually pretty satisfied if I just list off differences and logical fallacies in his argument. Seems happy to let me win and the subject to drop. I figured he was just testing my debate abilities or something usually.

For some reason this morning I was just…overtaxed? So tired that anything even mildly upsetting would've been hard to deal with. He really should've framed his question better, but I also reacted a lot more violently than I normally would.

So I really _am_ exhausted- is what I realized. I was tired, a little sore and needed to sleep for a couple of hours.

I usually hate taking naps, but when Cole agreed that rest would make me better at helping- I didn't really have any excuse to stay up.

Everyone was handling everything just fine without me.

So I snuck into Varric's tent and curled up on his cot. He didn't say a single word to me, though he glanced up when I came in. Just wrote at his desk while I fell asleep. The scratching noises of his quill were actually really soothing.

While asleep, I was wreathed in darkness that…almost seemed to _caress_ me. Lovingly, softly with an edge of fierce approval. That was odd.

I can even remember that when I woke up, it was with the pressure of a wind-light kiss on the edge of my mouth. I mean, as soon as I blinked open my eyes it was gone and I was a little baffled, but…well. It was probably just one of those surreal dreams that refuse to drift away until you're completely awake.

Varric brought me dinner and I dug in, having missed lunch.

And then I pondered things a little more closely, with a much clearer head and came to the conclusion that this wasn't an issue. I mean sure, he should say sorry for upsetting me. But I should also acknowledge this was mostly my lack of control and lack of awareness of my own state of body and mind.

And I mostly just wanted him to apologize because he's too proud. I figured he was probably expecting me to come back before long and say 'sorry I was overemotional' like I usually do when I have these problems in smaller doses.

Not this time…even though I knew he probably meant it differently than I took it…still it niggled at me.

' _This is why he's always so ticked off about me sleeping enough and eating on time._ ' I thought glumly to myself as I ate.

If he didn't address it, I would've let it go for a while- but we'd need to say _something_ to each other before the week was out. Letting small issues sit like this would only make them into bigger issues, later.

So when he came up next to me and apologized, even tried to _explain_ to me why he asked- all the tension drained out of me. He _hadn't_ meant it the way it sounded. If he had, he'd be on my case and I'd be rethinking my whole system.

The confirmation was a relief and the fact that he actually apologized instead of trying to prompt me to, or something…

The part where his soul and mine kind of caught on each other was a little embarrassing. I dunno if it was my doing or his- I don't have much control over my spiritual energy. I mean, in my world it's just a fun way to pass time or a spiritual practice. Meditation, purification- sometimes even part of a religion but it didn't ever seem to actually _do_ much there.

I mean, it made me feel better- but it didn't allow me to reach out and intermingle my essence with someone elses!

I determinedly avoided mentioning the slip of our energies against each other and he did the same, thank all the gods that could exist.

I did notice his entire face flushing bright red, so either he could feel what I felt in response to it…or he felt the same thing I did.

Which is a little upsetting and horribly distracting to think about. Because the slip of our energies against each other felt the same as when he was healing me. Softer and sweeter and…hotter…but the same. Like he reached inside me and tugged at places that have never been touched.

Unf.

Shaking my head and snorting at myself, I march up to the front gates of Haven with a basket of Elfr- of _Feladara._ I'm bringing in some of the harvest from the little farm I've had set up just beyond Taigen's hut outside the gates. I'm growing Elfro- _Feladara_ \- damn it- as well as other herbs we've been able to find, there.

I planted a couple of the seeds I got from the Drake berry fruits in their own plot right behind the hut. Since Cole first demanded I take up residence there when I'm doing my creative projects, I haven't left. I considered turning the hut over to the Healers a couple times…

But every single time, Cole appeared and pointed very firmly at me, saying 'no' before disappearing off to do something else again.

So I'm keeping the cabin for my stuff and using the small patch of dirt out behind it to grow Drake berry plants. I really want to get some grown before Felix needs them really badly. It wasn't much, just about five of the damn fruits. Felix has eaten a whole fruit every day on our trip from Redcliffe back to Haven and we're out.

The seed didn't want to take root or sprout…it's beginning to worry me. Do we need the blight or red lyrium around, just to grow it? What's the problem?

"Herald!" Cullen's voice calls out to me as I crest the stairs back into Haven. I pause and turn around, blinking at the sight of soldiers and scouts ringed around the training field with…well. With about a hundred mages in the middle looking over the weapons I had made for them. "Why don't you come down here and observe the mages' training?"

Ah, that's right. It's the first day the Rebel mage combatants will be training with my other people…including the ex-templars.

Must be why there's such a wide berth between the mages and the soldiers ringed round the area.

So I smile and hand off my basket to one of the gate guards. "Take this up to the herb preparation area near Adan's hut for me?"

"Happy to, Your Worship." He responds, nodding.

So I walk down the steps again and through the throngs of soldiers to get to the big mass of mages picking out polearms and battle axes and junk. All of them seem to be looking through the little runestones I made them, too.

I can see a few picking up plain staffs made with the new materials I've been getting like Serpentstone. Some with subtly frosty swords and shields flickering with electricity…. Wearing armor made from Deepstalker hide, nugskin leather and even one or two with Druffalo.

' _They must be the ones interested in learning to use greatswords and war hammers…_ '

"Herald, I wanted to discuss something with you." Cullen meets me before I can get too close to the mages. "I know your theories and opinions on all of this, but is it wise to give these mages more power with which-"

"Why do you believe so many mages want to learn this, Cullen?" I ask him, turning to face him at my left and keeping my voice low. The elves can probably still hear us if they want, but the humans can't, I hope. "There were a lot who just wanted to leave it at what they knew- but these mages are rarin' to learn a new way to defend themselves- why do you think that is?"

He huffs, "why does anyone want to learn new ways with which to kill people? Their skills as mages are enough."

"Not really, no. Because Templars are able to shut those skills _off_." I respond, a little stonily. He doesn't have near the affection-buffer that Dorian does- so I'm not going to take it easy if he says something stupid. "And they'd prefer no one _know_ they're mages in a lot of cases. They want to learn to fight _without_ magic. I assumed you'd be on board with them not burning people alive with their minds."

There is a silence as he stares at me with narrowed eyes and my brows slowly climb up my forehead.

"Lady Herald." Dahlia is walking over to us with Ren right behind her and the mages turn to watch, some of them only glancing before going back to what they're doing.

"Doll." I greet her with a grin.

She flushes pink and pouts at me. "We want…to speak with you about something."

So I shrug and gesture for her to follow me. "We can talk in my cabin. You'll have to get back fast so you don't miss training."

To my great surprise, it's not just Dahlia and Ren who follow but an entire grouping of mages that breaks off and stalks through the line of observing soldiers with me.

Hackles raised, gripping their new weapons tightly- some of their eyes darting around with too much of the whites showing.

So I hum. As we walk through the lines of soldiers. I hum and I smile at the men who used to be Templars and I don't look back after the first glance. I have faith in the mages and I have faith that Vivienne has sufficient control of the ex-templars.

Oh yeah, that was a trip. Vivienne actually had some expensive bath soaps and shit sent to my cabin she was so giddy about it. Even though she's just basically administration and the actual in-the-field commander is Delrin Barris... She sent me bath soaps, assorted other toiletries- she even apparently noticed how friendly I am with the servant who usually cleans the place up and bought her some new dresses and jewelry.

Eria was ecstatic about that.

My cabin isn't that far from the training grounds, but we're probably only going to have a few minutes before Cullen starts up the training. Each grouping of mages will be training with a different grouping of ex-templars, soldiers and scouts. The ex-templars are being watched closely and the mages have been told as much.

I think I saw a few of them slanting the ex-templars some smirks, in fact- at that.

"Okay guys, talk fast- Cullen doesn't like people bein' late." I let him have pretty much free reign over their training- he's the commander of all the forces, after all.

When I turn around, I'm a bit shocked to find the entire group that followed me…kneeling.

' _Ah shit_.'


	70. Dorian POV, Blackwall POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updating took so long-- we hit our data limit for the month so I had to wait till it started over for the month, lol.

Varric and I have taken up residence at the fire in Haven together, near enough that the inn's noise carries over a bit.

"So, explain this to me again-" I am fascinated by _all_ of this… "She favors elves and mages _because_ no one else does?"

"Schemer calls it a 'head start'." Varric responds, handing me a bolt to enchant. There is an entire pile of them beside us, waiting to be charmed and already done. "If she's usually always on their side and believes them and no one else does- well. She's got more sway- and everything evens out, in the end. She listens seriously to them when no one else wants to."

"I see." She is acting as a counter-balance to the inherent…what did she call it? Ah, yes- the inherent privilege that humans and non-mages have in the South. "What does she do when someone breaks the rules?"

"Usually if someone breaks a minor rule, like saying something they're not supposed to…" Varric hums and hands me the next freshly etched bolt. Amazing, the designs he puts into these things. Not obviously dwarven in nature, not runes… "She assigns some kind of extra labor and takes a small percentage of their pay to put into the Inquisition coffers. She uses specific funds for specific things. She usually puts those wages into the 'Grievance' box."

Varric huffs, "it's usually used to pay the servants bonuses and pay for any healing anyone needs as a result of said rule breaking. Servants, soldiers, elves, humans…"

I find myself chuckling at that. "So she punishes them by making them help the people they injured or spoke badly of?"

"She said they'd probably still be bigots and classists no matter what she did, but at least this way they'd have to be _polite_ bigots and classists." Varric sighs. "She makes note of all of them. Gives it to me. I've got eyes on all of 'em for now. But soon enough the list is gonna be too big."

"Wouldn't it be better to give that list to the Spymaster?" I wonder and run my fingers up the shaft of the bolt- fire runes appearing as I go.

"I'm her new partner, apparently." He chuckles. "I handle the people who don't fight, the civilian spies- even sometimes go through Buttercup when I need information to get some things done. So Me, the Nightingale and Buttercup are all responsible for different branches of the same job."

"How interesting." I hum and muse to myself. "But she seems to be so very worried about crimes against elves and mages…how will she have a list of suspects that's accurate if they learn how to hide themselves?"

"They'd learn no matter what." Varric responds, tapping a bolt-head to his knee.

"The worst kinds of people are usually clever enough to avoid anyone finding out how bad they are. At least this way, she's setting it up so people know their 'Holy Herald' disapproves of it. The especially devout are going to take up the mantle- and she's anticipating them doing it wrong an awful lot…" There is a particular twist to his mouth as he says that, as if remembering something funny.

"She is intending to create a network within the civilians that will spot the troublemakers and decry them?" I agree with the assessment that they will not do so to her satisfaction. They will not know the reasoning behind what she does- they will simply be attempting to do as she would.

Perhaps-

"Varric!" Ah, there she is. Running up to us with…a pale face and wide, frightened eyes. "I need you to meet me in the Tavern with everyone else. I'm going to get Solas."

And then she is running off toward Solas's cabin and we're both glancing at each other with some confusion. "Do you think she meant me as well?" I ask.

Varric shrugs. "If not, she'll let you know." Then pushes himself onto his feet. "Come on. Let's get all this put up before we go."

* * *

 

Blackwall POV

The Herald started breathing funny after she was done telling the story of why we were all in the Tavern. Had everyone else cleared out and only Flissa was allowed to stay, bringing us food and ale and then disappearing into the back in her little bedroom.

Solas started talking to her real low from beside her, telling her to breathe. Poor thing is having some sort of attack. I can understand her horror, in a way. In a lot of ways.

Seems a bunch of mages decided to swear themselves to her with some weird archaic blood ritual and want her permission to do it. Of course she didn't invite the Seeker, the Commander or Sera to talk about this.

Bull is conspicuously absent. She's started spending more and more time with he and the chargers as she's gotten to know them- he and Dorian both seem to captivate her whole attention. Though with how Qunari look at magic, she probably left him out for the same reason as the others who aren't here.

Dorian came in with Varric, looking now like he's bitten into a lemon. Varric himself just looks a bit serious. On Varric, that's a little alarming.

The blood magic part is a bit…well it's not like any of us want anyone working blood magic on her. But she always says there's benign ways to use it and she even said it wouldn't hurt her or anything- so I dunno what's upsetting her about this. Beyond what'd upset everyone else.

Solas wouldn't be so comforting if it was the blood magic. He seems as alright with it as she is. He'd likely be rollin' his eyes if it was that. So it must be somethin' else.

Vivienne wasn't invited either, I see. The Spymaster is in the corner, though- watchin' through calculating eyes.

"I don't _understand_ this." She says, running her fingers through her loose hair. Long and a bit ruffled with all the times she's touched and tugged and scratched at it. "I let them learn blood magic, okay. I let them _practice_ blood magic, okay. I keep them free, okay."

She's trembling as she speaks, poor girl.

"So why would they give me that power over them?" She asks, with horror dripping from every syllable. "Why would they spit in the face of their newfound freedom like that?"

"I believe they are clinging to it, actually." Solas is drawing designs on her back that seem to glow before settling. Some kind of magic. "By binding themselves to you, they know they will never be beholden to anyone else. And you would fight for their freedom even before you _could_ claim them." He sighs and his hand pauses on her back.

She seemed to be relaxing with every word he spoke and the magic appears to be soothing her.

"They asked me about this before coming to you." He informs her.

She blinks and turns her head to gaze at him in wide-eyed confusion.

"They explained to me that if the mages are made the enemy again…they would rather be left with you as their patron than no one." There is a twitch at the edge of his mouth. "I attempted to dissuade them from such rash actions, but they have thought it through. It is what they want. If you choose to decline, they will accept that. But do not do so in some misguided attempt to protect them from themselves."

He begins moving his fingertips again. "They know what they are doing. Make your choice, they have made theirs."

"I do believe there's likely another way to go about it." Dorian pipes up from the other side of the table. "But I don't see any harm in a type of magic that will simply anchor you to people. It is much like a marriage ceremony, in a way- there is no way to use the bond to hurt them or vice versa…unless you intend to hunt them down if they run from you."

"No, of course not." She groans and slumps over the table, relaxing by inches. "I just hate being in charge of people who think I'm god's emissary or something."

"The rebels are more likely to chafe at your authority if you do something they don't like, Schemer." Varric joins the conversation. "Like Sparkler says-"

Dorian makes a wounded noise.

"-there's probably some other way to do it, other than blood magic. But people have been swearin' to other people since the beginning of time." He shrugs. "Just ask 'em for some time, maybe set 'em to finding some other ritual that they'd be comfortable with."

She blinks big eyes at him over her arms. "I know they have. It isn't that I think I can't handle it or I'll become corrupt or something…" Her expression tightens. "But if I have more and more and more power personally instead of as an entity of the Inquisition…I mean, I've already got the Blades." She gestures to me at that. "They're in awe of me, aren't they? That's fucking unnerving and not to mention I think they probably never question the orders they're given to begin with- let alone orders handed down by _me_."

I clear my throat and take a sip of ale. All eyes on me then, as I speak. "I do, Herald."

She sighs, "that's why you're in charge. I can trust you and you'd never do a horrible thing I asked you to, just because I asked." Her eyes meet mine with some kind of _knowing_ in them.

I huff and feel some tightness in my chest. "So why not just go over everythin' with Solas first? You do that anyway."

She flushes and her eyes flick down to the table. "I shouldn't have to bother him for everything." I know she has some kind of little crush on the mage, though I assumed she'd want to be as close as possible to him. That's odd.

Solas rolls his eyes, "I have many assistants now to help me oversee the functions of the mages, Herald. I am not going to lose sleep if you seek my counsel on one more thing." Though his hand is retreating away from her, probably realizing how intimate that whole display was- his ears are turning pink, anyway.

"There you go, Schemer!" Varric boisterously exclaims. "Nobody's leavin' you to do all this alone."

The slight wetness that suddenly appears in her eyes is blinked quickly away- but I'll never forget seein' it there.


	71. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I hadn't planned this chapter. It sort of snuck up on me. I was going to go another direction and this story and everything happened-- you'll see what I mean.
> 
> Next chapter will be updated in three or four days, I think.

"Can you help me?" She is sitting at my desk, while I am stretched out on the bed, sitting upright and sketching. "I can't figure out what to do with the healer's armor. I mean, they need some, but I'm going to train them to abstain from fighting unless necessary." She hums and taps her sketchbook with the tip of her fingertips. "I have a very practical design for what they're doing, and I think I've considered all points of comfort but I feel like I'm missing something."

"Well, their armor is all somewhat different." I reply, glancing up from the sketch of the Embrium sitting next to me on the bed for my potions notes. "You will be marking them all as what they are and your enemies will eventually catch on."

She sighs. "Yeah, but this way everyone can know at first glance who to go to. I guess I could make them more similar to the front-line rogue's armor but make it thinner and…" Her brow is scrunching and there are lines forming on her forehead.

"Perhaps you should take a break." I offer and drop my sketchbook next to the bloom. I pick up the herb and place it carefully back in its basket next to my desk on the floor after I get out of bed. "It's nearly time to put the children to bed, is it not?"

She has taken to visiting the orphanage at night to tuck the children in and read to them until they fall asleep. She also visits them first thing in the morning to bring them breakfast. It is the only time we can tear her away from work with no fight.

She blinks and puts her sketchbook down on my desk, quill going back into my inkwell as she stands and stretches. "I almost forgot."

"I need to check on Ella, so I will walk with you." One of the girls has developed a problem in her lungs. Nothing healing can't cure, but it is a slippery slope.

There is a look she flashes me that I can't interpret, but the warmth that is radiating from her spirit is easy enough to decipher.

**Admiration**

I clear my throat and turn to pick up a few vials of the embrium mixture I've been experimenting with. Mostly to hide the way I'm sure my face is burning. Ever since the first time I reached out to her with my spirit, hers has been more open and she seems to almost be _projecting_.

Whether it is the mark or if she has always been able to do this…I haven't dared to ask.

We walk in silence from my cabin, down the narrow street, down two sets of steps- and then we are turning sharply left toward the large stretch of open land near the Trebuchets. She had them flatten one of the small hills and build a cabin directly on top of it. Large enough to hold all of the children for now- but we are finding more every day.

A pair of Scouts found some mage children who'd been separated from the rogues in the Hinterlands-nearly dead.

A few of the children who've been orphaned have been so…recently. One or both of their parents dying in the Inquisition's fight or the Conclave.

We climb the small incline that Nik had dug out and paved with rough stones. The barrier around my body that I never drop always cushions the rough textures- though it does not completely block them. I prefer to know what is underfoot. It scratches in such a way I am worried for the children walking on it barefoot.

Miera greets us at the top of the hill, just outside the cabin. Baby viva is cradled in her left arm as she rises. "Herald!"

There is a rush and a pitter-patter of feet rushing for the doorway.

"Calm down!" She laughs and walks up to it. "Get in bed, you know the drill!"

I turn to lean back against the cabin. Listening to the thundering footsteps of a dozen tiny bodies as they run for their beds. The creaking and rustling as they settle in.

I never go inside, it isn't my place.

Haven is settling for the night- our plans to close the Breach will be enacted two days from now. The Herald was adamant we do it as quickly as possible, and return, as quickly as possible. Her paranoia has gotten worse, as of late.

She is always a bit afraid of what might happen if something goes wrong. But this…

Always searching for more escape routes, though we have plenty to choose from. Always making certain that the carts and Druffalo are ready to go at a moment's notice and even checking on the stockpiles of food every day, to make certain we have enough if we have to hole up inside Haven for any length of time, for any reason.

I can hear the children laughing and the squeak of the beds as she leans over to hug them. She kisses them on the forehead before she reads, every single one of them.

Miera sits outside with me, watching me with a contemplating expression I can't decipher. She will enter once the children are asleep to put Viva down and climb into her own bed at the far end of the cabin. Once I am finished examining Ella, I will close the door silently behind me and take my leave. And then Nik and I will walk back into Haven and part ways.

"It was nice of you, you know." She says, tapping the side of the cabin lightly when I raise a brow. "To put those wards and things on the cabin."

I have no idea why this should fluster me, but it does. "I…ah."

"Didn't want anyone to know, huh?" She chuckles, low and throaty. "You two are a perfect match."

I cannot fully appreciate the guilt, the shame and the fear that shoots through me at that before she appears in the doorway.

With a pout. "They want another story." Nik says, smile slipping over her face. "Do we have anything or should I make something up?"

There is excited murmuring from inside and a shout from some of the children, "make it up!"

She snorts, "alright!"

And then she turns and goes back in, throwing me a glance. "You know they'd probably like one of _yours_ one of these days."

I chuckle a bit hollowly. "I believe you are overestimating their attention span."

She rolls her eyes and disappears into the darkened interior. Blankets are draped over the windows at night, to keep in the heat. There are runestones in each bed that activate when the children lie in them. Warmth, cold- if the child is too cold or too hot…they will react. Nik had those commissioned herself, citing a need to keep the children as well as possible.

' _Kids and the elderly are more suceptible to illness and therefore more likely to die from catching something even if it's usually just an irritating something for young adults. So we need to fix the kid's beds and if we have any elders, we probably need some kind of attendant to help them when they need it…_ '

She often goes off into tangents while dealing with one problem, discovering other problems that need fixing…it seems there are always more.

"Alright you guys. I'll tell you a story, but you have to be quiet and go to sleep. You can ask questions tomorrow when I come to give you breakfast." There is the sound of a bed creaking once more and I know she is perched on the edge of Miera's.

I close my eyes and lean more heavily back into the cabin wall behind me. I accompany her simply on the off-chance she will tell one of these stories from her homeland.

' _Well, sometimes I edit stuff. We had issues where I come from, even if we're further along than Thedas in a lot of ways…there were still problems. Big ones._ '

"Okay, well…tonight I'll tell you the story of Megamind." She giggles, surprising me. I have rarely heard her make such a noise. "Okay, so. There's a big black hole in the sky- like the Breach."

Already gasps and likely wide eyes, watching her as she tells the story.

"Except these black holes are natural and they eat up things so they can shoot it out." She explains as she goes on. "They eat planets with people on them- but there was a way for two sets of parents to save their one child each on two different planets."

She paints a picture of a planet filled with blue-skinned people with big, expressive eyes, large heads and slim bodies.

' _A planet is what we're living on, right now._ ' She had explained the concept of planets, stars, suns and moons… ' _Where I'm from, we wonder…if maybe there's life out there in the stars. Life like us!_ '

"They're beautiful, really. Their ears taper a little, so they even look a bit like elves with blue skin instead of just humans with blue skin," she says.

There is an excited murmur at that. She is always certain to tell a story containing elves or elf-like creatures. Half of the children in the cabin are elves, after all. They do not often hear these tales- it is likely their parents only knew a handful.

And when you are so overworked that life itself is exhausting…how much time can you really devote to creating more?

' _I have to tell them about the elven heroes, the elven servants and the elven wives and husbands. All of them. They're all going to turn out to be different people when they grow up, and they need someone to look up to. Shartan and Legolas and Fenris and *snrk* Spock- and Zevran and Iorveth…well, all the ones I can think of._ '

I asked, why not simply focus on one elf for all of them to look up to, then? Shartan should have been sufficient for that, I thought. A revolutionary.

She rolled her eyes at me. ' _Some of them are from foreign places like Orlais and Antiva- they need someone that looks, sounds and_ _ **lives**_ _like them. Someone_ _ **familiar**_ _._ '

"Now, as you can imagine…" She sighs. "The blue baby and the other baby looked very differently from each other. The other boy, he looked every part a human baby. They bounced against each other as they entered earth and the little human-looking boy fell into the home of a rich couple. While the blue elfin boy fell into a prison yard."

This doesn't seem quite as cut-and-dried as her stories usually are. I turn my head and open my eyes to watch her through the doorway.

She smiles while speaking of the child named Megamind, but has a bland expression when she mentions the other. "Megamind grew up in bad surroundings- it was a metaphor for poverty and being born into a minority, really. And the other kid, Wayne- who'd become Metroman someday- grew up in opulence and privilege."

The children watch her with intense focus. Each one of her stories enthralling them, every time. She has a gift for that, making even the smallest things seem interesting.

"Megamind could never make the other kids like him, no matter how hard he tried- how hard he worked." There is a wistful twist to her mouth. "And Wayne treated him like a bad kid, so the rest of them did, too."

She sighs softly and drums her fingertips on her knees. "So he decided it was his destiny to be the bad guy, and dedicated himself to the pursuit of evil."

There are gasps and she grins at them. "It was more of a game to Megamind and Metroman, than anything else. Megamind would kidnap a woman named Roxanne- _every time_." She rolls her eyes fondly. "They would banter, Megamind would call up Metroman and then _they'd_ banter…and then Metroman would stop whatever Megamind's new scheme was and take him to prison…"

There is a pause as she seems to consider her next words. "He'd always break out and he'd start immediately planning a new scheme, every time- with his minion by his side, always." Her feet kick a bit as her eyes drift up toward the ceiling, lost in thought as she goes on. "But eventually…Metroman got tired of being a hero."

' _Interesting._ ' I am turned, leaning nearly in the doorway.

Miera is looking at me with amusement.

A silly thing to be embarrassed of. How does this woman always manage to fluster me?

' _You two are a perfect match.'_

"He faked his death, letting Megamind think he'd killed him- and then he left and went underground. Meanwhile Megamind was struggling with the knowledge that he'd killed Metroman and was beginning to have a bit of a crisis. After all, what's a villain without a hero? I mean sure, he was overlord of Metro City- but what did it matter? There was no challenge, no fight, no _fun_. And it never occured to Megamind to do anything else, because from the time he was small- he believed evil was his destiny."

Her eyes close for a moment, "so after speaking to Roxanne, while wearing someone else's face with…a kind of magic…" They open with a sheen of tears over them. "He decided to make another Hero."

Ah. I can already sense this is going to go badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really into Megamind and the Walking Dead at the moment so I'm writing a Daryl/OC story with a modern girl dropped into the Walking Dead universe and reading all the Megamind stories I can get my hands on.
> 
> If any of you guys are into The Walking Dead and haven't seen that story yet-- it's called Dead Woman Walking.


	72. Chapter 72

"He used a special magic to give someone else Metroman's power. But he did it to the wrong person and it was mostly an accident. He'd meant to go looking for someone noble of heart and mind- but it ended up being given to a man named Hal." I laugh a little, feeling a bit teary-eyed and small. Remembering what happens next is a little bit of a rollercoaster for someone who sympathizes so much with fictional characters on a regular basis.

Solas is leaning in the doorway, like he usually is by this point. I think he likes the stories because they're nothing like he expects. They're really different and new and interesting if you've never heard their like before, I'm sure.

And Megamind is one of the best anti-bullying movies I've ever seen.

"So he started to train Hal, trying to make him into a superhero. Named him Titan-" I refuse to acknowledge Hal's misspelling of his superhero name. It was obviously a gag and it doesn't count. "-and as he was doing this- he began putting on the fake face more and more often…to be with Roxanne."

I smile when I see a couple of the kids are blinking heavily already.

"So, as he got to know Roxanne, and started training Titan…he began to feel better. Like he had a purpose again, like he could have everything he wanted…but he was lying to Roxanne about who he was…and one day…his fake face fell off."

There are little gasps, all around.

I grin a little sadly. "Yes. She saw him, and she rejected him. Because he'd killed Metroman, as far as she knew- because he took over the city- because he was the villain."

"I should hope that is not the ending." Solas is leaning fully in the doorway now. "It seems you are building to something and I can only hope he does not fail."

I laugh a little at that, reaching up to dab at my eyes. "Well see. It's not that simple." I bite my lip and sigh. "Megamind and Minion had a fight before his face fell off- so Megamind went home alone after Roxanne rejected him. In the rain, at night. It was very dramatic and sad."

There's a little giggle and I slant Illani an amused look.

"So, he decided to really throw himself into his fight with Titan. He got dressed up in a really cool-looking, intimidating cape with a big, popped collar." I gesture behind myself to show them what I meant. "Big shoulder guards, spiky gloves and boots…he looked really good in it." I grin. "I'll show you a picture sometime. Anyway…"

I narrate the whole fight with Titan and Megamind's reunion with Roxanne…and by the time I was finished, everyone was asleep.

And when I looked up from my lap after telling the ending of the story, I could see a pair of glittering gray eyes in the dark and I almost choked in surprise. "Solas?" He doesn't normally walk in until after I've walked out. "Oh, right. Ella." Maybe he isn't so leery of the kids anymore?

He seemed almost afraid of them at first.

So I get up and walk outside, waiting near Miera's seat as she walks in and settles Viva down for the night.

Before long, Solas walks back out and we start our way back into Haven together. I don't know why I wait for him, or why he waits for me- we're just around each other so much it seems…weird. To be apart.

"Interesting story. Moreso than usual." Solas huffs. "So many of your stories are about love, kindness- but what was the moral of that story?"

I give him a confused look. "You can't figure it out?"

"Something akin to embracing your true destiny?" He asks, then goes on. "Or perhaps something about the selfishness of humanity? I cannot…" He makes a small, irritable noise. "What was the point of the story? Why not simply make this…Megamind, the hero to begin with?"

I laugh a little, under my breath. "That's the whole point, though. He _couldn't_ be, until then." I hold up my hands and stop as we reach the very edge of Haven. At that weird little not-quite-a-gate-arch. "He looked different, so people didn't like that. He _was_ different- and people liked that even less."

He's frowning at me. "I understood _that_."

"Let me finish, or you can sit in suspense." I deadpan.

There is the immediate disappearance of his scowl in favor of that block-face he gets when he's trying not to look pissed off. "Go on."

I snort and cross my arms, feeling the chill start to get to me. I guess the runes in my clothes wore off… "So because everyone treated him like the villain, that's what he became. But he was so good on the inside, it was never who he was meant to be."

Turning my head, I smile at the village. "It's supposed to be a moral about…well, bullying. Bigotry. Classism. All the big things and all the small things. The more you treat someone like less of a person, like a villain- the more they'll have anger and hate in their hearts…and not all of them are as good inside as Megamind. He was especially strong…being able to pick himself up like that and be more than they thought he was…"

I don't realize he's walked closer until his hands touch my folded arms. I'm too startled to jump, but my head jerks over to look at him- my hair falling in my face as warmth begins to suffuse my limbs.

I can't really do anything but stare at him as he reaches up and brushes the hair out of my eyes, back behind my ear.

The subtle brush of his skin brings the heat magic with it and my whole body is tingling with it. The soothing presence of warmth. I shiver when his fingertips curl around my ear, tucking the hair in place- and then his eyes meet mine.

I think we pause for a few seconds, realizing how close we are- and then he steps away and releases a breath that almost sounds…shaky. "You should be warm enough until you reach your cabin." The mask is back in place- no flash of tenderness left in his eyes. I think I imagined it, anyway.

So I nod, turn on my heel and walk down the path toward my little wooden house. Forcing myself not to glance back, not even once.


	73. Nik POV, Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost posted the same chapter twice... wow.

We have two of the council of Heralds in our pocket now. It isn't much, but Leliana was able to swing a vote in the direction we'd agreed on. And since we also have an ally in Cyril de Montfort- who is friends with both Hawke and Varric- we have three votes to swing in any direction we'd like.

"They will be discussing the new policies that Cyril brought to the Council's attention in three days." Leliana lays out a small piece of paper on the war table as we lean on it together. "Which means this is the first time we will be directly influencing a vote. Our people have their eyes on the Comte and the Comtesse, but I worry we will not have enough votes regardless. The Council does not care for these issues."

"Hence why we had to have Cyril address them." I huff. "Getting those official titles for the elves in the Alienage will go a long way toward giving them some kind of handhold in Orlais. Titles are everything there, aren't they?"

"Quite important, yes." Leliana nods and starts scribbling down the message that will be sent to her agents in Orlais. "And I'm certain with the way he had Cyril frame it, it will simply seem the thing to do to keep the peace. To soothe ruffled feathers and hopefully stop the elves from attempting to rebel any further."

It won't. But they don't need to know that. "After this, we can let things sit for a while, see which way they'll go with future votes and figure out what we need to make them vote _for_."

"A title here and there for our embedded agents will ensure we have people in all the right circles to whisper in others' ears." Leliana sighs now and pushes back her hood- running her fingers through her fiery hair. "They are already ordering the magically charged garments. Carefully- hoping to be original when the new fashion hits the streets."

"It's been a while since we were in Val Royeax, though." I say. "Are you sure they want them?"

She giggles a bit. "You don't know Orlesian trends. They do not immediately jump upon something. To do so would reek of desperation. The first person to wear one of those dresses will be both admired and despised by everyone. It is a coveted position, but no one is willing to take that first step and chance being too early."

"So let's have one of ours wear them. Or even more than one." I shrug. "If they brag about how they were personal gifts from the Herald of Andraste herself- that'd be something, wouldn't it?"

She grins at me. "I will include some extra dresses and suits with the shipments, then- and they will be the first."

"Herald!" Josephine comes streaking in, looking harried and pale. "There is a problem!"

"What?" I immediately step around the table and stop in the doorway. "Josie, what is it?"

* * *

 

Solas POV

Ah, _this_ is the cause of all the excitement.

There is currently a large group of Qunari outside the gates. Though I believe they are Tal'Vashoth…

"What the hell's going on!?" Nik weaves her way through the crowded mass of soldiers, bristling with shields and weaponry just outside the front gates.

Her eyes dart to me and her brow raises as I walk out into the open training yard with her. We break through the bodies almost at once and I shake my head as I do not know what is happening either. Beyond the obvious.

Her breath escapes her in a cloud of vapor- it is quite cold this morning.

Almost mechanically, my magic surges across the space between us to fill her with warmth. Remembering how it went wrong last night is enough to remind me to grasp the magic and pull it back before our spirits can intermingle.

She glances aside at me as we walk up to the Commander and smiles. "Thanks."

I direct my gaze forward, "you are welcome." It is barely loud enough for her to hear, I am sure. What is _wrong_ with me?

"Herald, wait!" A Qunari soldier comes through the crowd behind us and seems to be gasping for air. "It's-"

"Arisala!" Shouts a Tal'Vashoth from the large group that seems to be converging on Haven. "We knew you couldn't be dead!"

The Qunari female stands tall and gestures at them to get back. "You're scaring the small ones. Back off the land."

"No no! Come in and stay!" Nik steps forward and gestures to the Tal'Vashoth. "So long as you don't mess with my people or break the rules of Haven, I'd be happy to give you a space to camp."

"Herald." I don't know if I wish to admonish her for being too trusting or simply put up a token resistance.

"It's okay, there's more of us." She shrugs. "If they _do_ make trouble, we can handle it. And if they don't, we've made new friends." There is that scar turning her smile into something shrewd.

She is correct, of course. Gaining new allies like this would be very good for the Inquisition. We have so many people now, Mages and Templars, ordinary people joining up after we have saved their villages.

"Oh! But I think I should warn you." She steps forward with the vashoth from our ranks. "We have a Qunari in Haven, and I'd rather you didn't get into any altercations- that won't be a problem, right?"

"A Qunari?" The Tal'Vashoth seem to pause at that. Then one of them laughs loudly. "She means 'under the Qun'!"

"Yes. So far as I know you're called Tal'Vashoth and they're called Qunari. Did I miss something?" A small frown appears on her face and I step forward as our Vashoth addresses her.

"Not much, your Worship. We just have so many people calling us 'Qunari' that we forget we're not anymore." She says with a wry twist of her mouth.

Nik blinks, "you're all Kossith though, aren't you?"

One of the larger men laughs now. A harsh bark of sound. "How much do you know of our people?"

"More than most, less than some- definitely less than you." She grins, almost rakishly and I nearly start at the oddness of it.

' _Ah. Another persona she is taking on._ ' She does not seem aware that she behaves differently when she does this. Perhaps she is not. The core remains the same. The friendliness, the selflessness. The complete disregard for herself and her resources. All that changes is the way she speaks, walks and smiles.

"Perhaps we should set them up further from Haven." I interject. "We have enough supplies and space for ourselves, but if you add too many more, it could be a problem."

She frowns and glances at the crowd of Tal'Vashoth. "Is there more than fifty of you?"

"Thirty or so." The same man from before says, stepping forward and offering her his hand. "Well-met, Herald of Andraste."

She peers upwards at him with a bright smile and takes his hand without hesitation. "I don't know what to call you, but it's nice to meet you too!"

Laughter ripples across both groups. Our own soldiers, finally assured we are not being attacked- and the Tal'Vashoth.


	74. Dorian POV, Solas POV

The poor thing is drooping as we trudge back to Haven.

Cole is propping her up, her arm slung over his shoulder. "I know it hurts, but it will be over soon. Solas will fix it."

"Ugh…" She groans and her face screws up in a grimace of pain. "I'm just kinda glad I'm not on a horse." Her voice is rough and her skin is greying slightly.

She gasps sharply when I pick up her other arm and sling it over my neck. I'm not a healer, but I know enough about magic absorption to know how to draw it out of the body and into…well. Me.

"You can use me, too." Cole says in response to my thoughts.

"I suppose you'd have higher tolerance as a Spirit." I focus on the energy running rampant through her body and then connect to Cole. It is…an odd experience.

His presence is more like a cool bath of water after an evening sitting in the sun. Soothing, relaxing. Interesting.

Sucking the energy out of her and into us is difficult. She doesn't seem to realize what I'm doing- though she reacts to every brush of magic with a small noise or a shudder.

Her insides seem to be slowly repairing themselves- sucking in the magic still left in her body after I've drained what I can, and using it to heal herself.

Remarkable!

Though she collapses not long before we get to Haven.

I have to carry her through the front gates myself, Cole hovering anxiously nearby. How does he manage to look so blank and and yet so neurotic at the same time?

"Move!" Solas didn't have to bark that order. The stormy expression on his face is parting the crowd just fine. "How long ago did she lose consciousness?"

His magic reaches out before his hands do. As if he could work it with his mind and do so just as ably as with his hands or a staff. And all over again I remind myself to be wary of him. "Not long ago."

"I told her she would need me." He says, not satisfied but drawn. Not happy to be proven correct. "Why couldn't she just-" There is a helplessness in that tone of voice, that expression.

"She just wanted to do it right for once." Cole drifts around us, eyes flashing in the dimness of twilight. "You always save her, fix her, fix everything. She feels small."

And with that cryptic statement, Cole drifts away and Solas is staring down at Nik with a frustrated expression.

"I believe if you hovered a bit less, she'd feel less tempted to prove herself." He should know, at least… "She looks up to you, admires you. And you constantly treat her like she's making all the wrong decisions. She just wants you to tell her she did right once." I know the feeling.

He's staring at me, eyes narrow but not glaring.

"And if she can't have that, she'll go for second best." I finish, glancing down at the fragile woman in my arms. "Making you see she can handle it, even if it means pain."

* * *

 

Solas POV

She has been unconscious since the sealing of the Breach. Her body seems to be attempting to heal itself with the residual magical energy from funneling the power of the Templars and the Mages in one fell swoop.

Though I will give her this: If she had attempted with only the Mages or only the Templars- it would have been much more stress on her body. Recruiting the both of them was in fact for the best. Though I still question how she can call Templars rapists and murderers and still employ them as guards in Haven.

Even with the Scouts watching them…

Well, perhaps she thinks it better to keep them within her sights.

Lady Cassandra has been deployed to handle some business in the Hinterlands- requests from villagers and farmers in the area to clear out nests of leftover demons or bears…things of that nature.

Cullen is being deployed back to Therinfal Redoubt to settle the few Templars back in that have agreed to hold the fort for us. He is taking many of our own Soldiers and Scouts- as well as a good number of our villagers with him.

She baffles me at most times, but this…this is prudent.

Dividing her forces, her civilians, her mages and even her advisors…it would make it difficult for the Inquisition as a whole to be eradicated this way. She is expecting some kind of attack, though none of us can quite fathom why.

Though she doesn't seem to realize her own death would effectively push the advisors over the edge. I have no doubt Cullen and Cassandra would tighten the restraints on the mages, Leliana would fight back- but she is only one person. Josephine and I only have so much influence with the rest of them, we would be disregarded.

The Templars would be monitored- some of them killed if Leliana saw them as a threat.

Josephine may simply break down.

…and I wouldn't know what to do without the mark. Now that the Breach is sealed, we could perhaps find some way to strengthen the Veil enough to seal the residual rifts…but it is unlikely.

She slumbers in her personal cabin…that I had no idea existed.

I sit in it now, watching over her, staring really. As she sleeps. Not at her, but through her if I am being completely honest. ' _Trying to prove something, I knew. But to me? Why?_ ' Putting herself in danger was always thoughtless and self-destructive, but to prove a point to me about being able to handle herself has to be-

Inhaling sharply and clenching my fists where they sit in my lap, I slowly close my eyes. My breathing takes a moment to equalize, and I take the time to go down the list a bit further.

Cole is watching over Haven, being certain to keep vigilant for rule breakers and helping anyone he can in any way he can. His purpose fulfilled.

Vivienne and Blackwall are minding their troops- Vivienne traveling to Therinfal with the Templars and Blackwall heading to the Stormcoast to mobilize the Blades of Hessarian. There are tunnels on the storm coast they had to leave open before, but they may now close.

Sera and Dorian have been instructed to keep an eye on the Mages and Templars as they go their separate ways. Sera heading down to the village afterwards to watch over the mages there while the Herald is unconscious. Nik seems to trust her to watch out for their best interests.

I am baffled by that, as Sera seems to dislike mages and magic, intensely.

The Iron Bull is overseeing the integration of the Valo-Kas mercenary group into the whole of the Inquisition- mostly I believe to avoid assassinations of their people while they are with us. The Qunari will hesitate to destroy Vashoth if it will damage a potential alliance with the Herald of Andraste, she assumed.

Dorian will be staying in Haven. Mostly, it seems, out of a desire to see to the Herald's wellbeing.

Before sealing the Breach, they began to spend more time together. Constantly flirting, joking and conversing on a myriad of complex subjects. Always asking my opinion when I was near and they noticed me, but sometimes failing to notice my presence at all.

I do not understand why it bothers me. Regardless of her esteem for anyone else, I am still the foremost expert on the mark and all unknown or unexplored magics she can conceive of. Whether he was able to hold her together until she could get back to Haven or not, he had no idea how to fix her completely. She will not simply pass me over as her Advisor.

…but she may replace me on her squad.

That is what worries me.


	75. Chapter 75

My dreams are calming, the whole time I'm under after sealing the Breach.

My people know what to do in case of emergency, so there's no real need to panic and wake up super fast- or at least that's what he keeps trying to _convince_ me of.

" _ **You should rest.**_ " His smooth voice tells me. " _ **Your body is not fully healed.**_ "

That shadowy figure with the wolfy form from before is back. Trying to keep me asleep out of a misguided desire to help me heal. Or so it seems. Who knows with Fade apparitions, really?

" _ **You won't even tell me how long I've been under!**_ " I exclaim, rapping at the watery wall of my dreamscape. He's trapped me in it. " _ **If my people are going through the attack on Haven alone-**_ "

" _ **The area around you is serene.**_ " He responds, drifting through my dream scape toward me with gliding movements. " _ **If there were distress, I would wake you.**_ "

" _ **Why don't you just wake me up**_ **now?** " I ask, sinking back against the wall of the dreamscape as he comes closer. " _ **My people are probably worried about me.**_ "

" _ **Yes. And they are glad you still sleep.**_ " His eyes narrow as he stops before me and seems to kneel to get down to my level. His shape is still kind of amorphous every once in a while. His shape doesn't solidify except, ah.

He reaches out a shadowy hand to cup the side of my face, and I don't move- staring at him with confusion. " _ **What do you want from me?**_ " His form solidifies when he touches me.

He hums and moves forward, shadowy body crowding me back against the wall of my dreamscape. " _ **Want? I**_ **want** _ **nothing.**_ "

My brows furrow and I stare into those eyes that seem so familiar… " _ **What do you**_ **need** _ **, then?**_ "

A feral smile with sharp canines, rakish and wide- " _ **You always know the right questions to ask, it seems.**_ "

" _ **Herald?**_ " Solas is calling out from the other side of my dreamscape wall. " _ **Please, let me in.**_ " There's a note of desperation in that, and I wonder how long he's been trying to get inside.

" _ **Can't keep you all to myself forever…though I'd like to.**_ " That grin turns wry as his form begins to dissipate. " _ **Give him all my love.**_ "

" _ **Cheeky jackass.**_ " I deadpan and blink when Solas is suddenly standing beside me, like he'd shifted inside instead of walking. " _ **Uh…hey.**_ "

" _ **I do hope that was not directed at me.**_ " He says, looking exhausted. " _ **We need to talk.**_ "

' _That sounds ominous._ '

I shove myself up to my feet and look at him a little nervously. " _ **About?**_ "

He sighs. " _ **All of this self-destructive behavior, attempting to do things on your own when it is unwise…why?**_ "

" _ **Because I can.**_ " I respond, feeling a little sulky at his choice in topic. " _ **No one ever believes I can do anything for myself.**_ " I mutter and turn away from him, crossing my arms.

" _ **It isn't that I believe you incapable. It is that I believe you stubborn and small-minded for trying.**_ " He's staring at me with narrow eyes when I look over my shoulder at him. " _ **You are risking the whole world, not only your life. And beyond that…**_ " He pauses to breathe and I can see his emotional climate darken and shake.

" _ **I'm fine.**_ " I respond. " _ **I know my limits and when something is too much for me, I bring someone who can do the job if I fail.**_ "

" _ **Your argument is that you know it's possible you could die!?**_ " He throws his hands up. " _ **What would we do if we lost you? The rifts are still there, Nik- the Breach is sealed but the rifts remain!**_ "

" _ **Dorian figured out that weird trick with healing magic, didn't he!?**_ " I whirl around and cross my arms tighter, trying to keep myself together. " _ **You could expand on that! You don't need me.**_ "

" _ **It would be much easier**_ **with** _ **you and you know it.**_ " He responds, face flushing a little as his emotional climate tinges red and orange around him. It's like looking at him with a sunset casting its light over his features and I'm a little lost looking for a moment. " _ **Where is this self destructiveness coming from?**_ "

His expression twists into something pained and his climate turns purple and blue. God, it's beautiful. " _ **Are you doing this to impress me?**_ "

There's a whole moment there where I don't comprehend what he's saying enough to get flustered- but then that's over and I'm stuttering and feel my own emotional climate shift and warm around me. " _ **W-what?**_ "

He tilts his head at me, studying me and I hate it. It feels like he's measuring me up and finding me lacking. " _ **Answer the question.**_ "

I don't lie. And lying in the Fade is impossible for me, anyway. He'll just see the answer is the opposite of what I'm saying based on my emotions. I can't refuse to answer either, cause that's as good as answering.

All I can do is damage control, I suppose. " _ **It's not that simple.**_ "

" _ **That is not a 'no'.**_ " He seems furious with me right now. " _ **Why does my opinion of your abilities matter so much?**_ "

" _ **It isn't**_ **just** _ **you**_ **.** " I say. Both honest and dishonest at once. It's not _just_ him, but it is _mostly_ him. " _ **My entire life, because…because of my anxiety and depression- they infantilized me!**_ "

He seems a bit taken aback at that, stepping backwards at the force of my emotional storm- it's actually fucking storming in here now.

It's raining, the wind is whipping my hair up into a frenzy and I just couldn't give less of a fuck.

" _ **It wasn't until I hit my twenties that I knew how to do anything for myself because my family did it all**_ **for** _ **me!**_ " I can feel tears streaking down my face, which is a weird sensation in a dream, lemme tell ya. " _ **Because I had no purpose, nothing to do, I had no reason to snap out of my depression. I was stuck. In bed, all day- every day, for**_ **YEARS** _ **.**_ "

He looks so at a loss. " _ **Nik,**_ " He shakes his head and tries to step toward me, but I step away.

" _ **You're not just asking me to be safe, you're asking…you're asking me to be**_ **that** _ **again. And I can't. I can't be catatonic again- I can't sit in a bed and wait to waste away and die again…**_ " I'm sobbing, god I can't believe this!

I don't notice he's moving again until he's right in front of me. I try to step back but my dreamscape's wall has solidified just like before and he traps me against it, arms wrapping around my shoulders and drawing me in tight to his chest.

His face is buried in my hair and I just… _collapse_ into him as he mutters, " _ **I didn't know. Ir abelas, Fenlin.**_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know if anybody got teary-eyed while reading this chapter.


	76. Solas POV

It took a bit of time to calm her.

I shifted the area around us until we were sitting on her bed in Haven- my arms wrapped tightly around her to anchor her to me. Her climate seems to want to dissipate- to wake her up. She is still not fully healed, it would not be wise.

" _ **Why can't I just wake up?**_ " She is whimpering and the sound is like a knife to my chest. " _ **I just wanna wake up…**_ "

" _ **You cannot, yet.**_ " I stroke her hair, fingertips tangling in the strands that seem to curl themselves around my hand. " _ **I can make you sleep so deeply you are unaware. It will be as if you have blinked when you finally wake.**_ "

" _ **Just make everything go away,**_ " She whispers.

So I do.

It isn't difficult now that I have her cooperation. As it is, before I could not affect anything she did not allow me to affect. When I pulled back the wolf statue, there was immense struggle and the only reason I was able to do so is, I suspect, her flustered state upon my seeing such a thing.

Her willpower is so strong, were she a mage…

I would fear for her abilities. She could burn the world with a single angry thought if she were so inclined.

' _She is not inclined._ ' I remind myself, curling the insensate body further into my grasp, lying back on the approximation of a bed and curling my fingers through her hair once more. Soothing sensations will hopefully keep her calm until she wakes- in that dark, safe place where nothing can feel her.

I despise doing this to her, as I would to anyone. But I am helping, rather than…

Sighing and resigning myself to a long night of watching over the Herald, I solidify the area around us and place wards on all the walls.

I have already cast them all over her own cabin, as well as underneath her bed- she is as protected as I can make her. This last layer is simply me being overcautious.

She _often_ makes me overcautious. Not only when she is out there, seeking death…but simply when she speaks of a dangerous situation, goes over strategy with the Commander- talks to Dorian about Tevinter politics. The very suggestion of something that she could be doing that might possibly be dangerous is enough to make me ridiculously aware of her every movement.

Aside from the physical danger, there is…her natural ability to manipulate, that doesn't seem to extend to her close circle of friends, but she admits that she does not know if it _ever_ does. And that worries me as well.

I am acutely aware of every manipulation _I_ have ever made. Every sweet word whispered into an ear- every lie ever told- omission or misdirection, it is still a lie. It is a foreign concept to me that she does _not_ notice...

My lips press into a thin line as I recall our conversations about her family. Not many stories were told, and none of them contained even a hint as to what her childhood was actually like. Perhaps by design? She is open about the vaguest of details, but when asked to pin anything down, she is hesitant.

She often becomes melancholic if asked about things she does not wish to speak of. As if a simple reminder would be enough to…

Her state that morning when Varric and I watched Cole force her to work, seemed to be one of Despair-induced sloth. She didn't want to move, or think, or speak. He forced her to.

Perhaps now I fully understand why she is the way she is.

Without her insane selflessness- if she didn't run herself ragged…it is likely she would succumb to despair again. And it is clear that frightens her. More than anything else I've seen. More than climbing those ladders- more than facing the demons at every rift- even more than facing Alexius.

Sighing deeply and curling her closer to me, I flick my wrist and call up an image I am curious about.

The wisps in the area do not need much prompting to sketch out a very vague image of her memory of…this creature she called 'Megamind'.

Her attachment to the character in the tale seems to be quite raw and immediate. As if she knows him personally or identifies with him. I wonder if it his appearance, his personality or his story that…

Ah. He is just as strange and beautiful as she said he was. Eyes luminous and green, almost burning with fervor even as he smiles. Energetic and bright.

There is an emotional undertone to the memory. Admiration and affection bound up with…attraction.

I flick my wrist again and the image is gone. I hadn't meant to discover that. That almost felt like love. Or infatuation at the very least. She spoke with Cole once about an assassin that was killed in one of her stories that she nearly seemed to be in tears over- so it is likely she is easily attached to fictional people.

Something occurs to me, and I know before my hand moves that it is wrong.

' _I have to know._ ' I do **not**! ' _She would tell me if I thought to ask._ ' If she would answer, then I should simply **ask** her. ' _I am too much of a coward for that._ ' I will not **use** her that way, it is pointless.

' _This isn't about her. It is about me, my foolishness and the need to stamp out the hope._ ' I sigh and close my eyes, not looking at the image of myself the wisps have created.

Looking at it, will be akin to looking through her eyes.

My head turns and my eyes open, because I am a hopeless, stupid old fool. And attributing this to my own selfishness makes it much easier to indulge.

What I see is surprising. So surprising, I nearly lose my hold on her consciousness. Reapplying the pressure to keep her awareness down, I glance at the image again and attempt to parse what is…wrong with the image.

It looks like me, but not the way I see myself in the mirror.

The eyes are far more expressive than I can recall and brighter as well. Nearly glowing with what seem to be storm clouds…ah. Yes. She told me about that, did she not?

…

" _So pretty…" She whispers._

_It surprises me and I jerk, glancing up at her- to find her staring at_ _**me** _ _._

_There is a flush high in her cheeks, likely from the magic filling her body. "Your magic is like smoke…"_

…

The memory is sharp and immediate, here in the Fade. Almost as though it happened only a moment ago.

I can remember a time or two when I caught her staring in the midst of battle. But she has no role in the fight, so I thought…what else is there for to do but watch, then seal the rifts?

But I have never found her gaze sticking to Dorian, Vivienne or even Cole, who also uses Fade energy from time to time.

The thought is oddly comforting. My magic was once so effortless and beautiful that the People wrote sonnets about it. Now I feel horribly…stunted.

The curvature of my cheekbones is much sharper here- while also being soft and…dare I say _inviting_. I have an uncontrollable urge to reach up and cup the phantom's cheek in my palm- and knowing where that desire is coming from is mildly discomfiting.

It has always been obvious that she seeks my knowledge and guidance with fervor. Sees me as some…wise counsellor. I simply…hadn't considered that she might also find me…interesting. In this way.

I study the complex cloud of emotion around the image of myself and purse my lips. It is just as I have suspected. She does not quite know _what_ to make of me, but she is endeared to me nonetheless.

The fact that I feel relief at that isn't immediately strange. After all, if I have her ear…I can at least attempt to dissuade her from hasty acts. Though judging from her recklessness lately…I do shudder to think what would have happened if I were not quite so highly regarded by the Herald.

The warm fingertips of her affection flicker within my own chest, as well as a tug low in my stomach that pauses me- causes me to panic and flick away the image altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh, what do you guys think of that?


	77. Nik POV, Solas POV

I tried to talk to Dorian, Varric and Leliana early this morning- then later this morning and then this afternoon, several times.

I was thwarted each and every time by an extremely irate Arcane Advisor who kept herding me back to my cabin in Haven and sequestering me inside, then leaving.

This last time, I grasp his wrist before he can leave.

He whips his head around and glares at me so hard I balk a little. " _What_?" He hisses at me, looking every inch a very pissed off _cat_. Ears back, face flushed- if he had fur it would be puffed up.

"Where are you going?" I ask in a small voice that I curse myself for using.

' _You're supposed to be gaining his_ _ **respect**_ _, not acting like more of a_ _ **child**_ _!_ ' God, this is hard.

He almost instantly seems to deflate, though it's not by much. "I have things to attend to."

"Things?" I ask, a little baffled. He should have people doing things _for_ him, and only need to give orders and oversee execution at this point. In fact I _know_ that he could do whatever work he has to do much _later_. I set it up so he could have more free time- gave him an extremely ridiculous amount of assistants…

Well I did that for everyone, really.

And Solas is never that vague unless you're asking about _him_ , his past…he's always really up-front and will happily tell you _everything_ he's working on, if you ask.

"Yes." He answers, a little defensively. And that's when I see the determined-not-to-look-embarrassed expression on his face. He's flushing and his ears are twitching a little or he'd have gotten away with it and I'd have assumed he was just being terse.

"No." I respond, tilting my head and narrowing my eyes. "You don't normally lie like that to me. Is everything alright?" I can't help a sudden panicky feeling that something's gone wrong that he won't tell me about.

"I am… _fine,_ Herald." There is so much exhaustion in his tone and his entire body seems to droop- even as his eyes warm from their cold hardness from before. "I am tired and I was hoping to take some time for myself to think…that is all." It's the truth, but it's not _all_ the truth.

I frown and take a step toward him, feeling a little flash of surprise at the way he almost retreats from me. A half-step back, an aborted escape- a wild look that flashes across his face.

* * *

 

Solas POV

She stops in her advance, an expression of complete confusion crossing her face. And I have a moment…when I realize.

' _She makes me blind._ ' I inhale sharply and try to grab hold of myself. ' _But_ _ **I**_ _make_ _ **her**_ _blind, as well._ '

And now, the power balance between us is again equal.

I can stand tall before her and pull that veneer of aloof interest back over myself. "My apologies. I am…out of sorts this morning. Was there something you needed?"

I can see she is still suspicious, still _worried…_ but she lets it go.

"I was gonna ask if you could help me…" She trails off and her face turns pink. "…but if you need to go, I'm okay."

Always that knee-jerk reaction to asking for help. Pulling immediately away and offering an escape. It would sadden me if I didn't simply know she was attempting not to manipulate. Though to be quite honest it works to tug the heartstrings and therefore is its own kind of manipulation.

I fear if I tell her that, she will never ask for help again.

"What do you need?" I ask and watch as she turns to grasp a book off of her desk.

She walks over and holds it out toward me. "I'm still working out the process for training my Justicars…"

"You are going with that name, then?" I can feel the side of my mouth tick up at one edge.

"Shut up." She mutters and shoves the book into my chest, forcing me to take hold of it. "I wrote them all down, their specialties and everything…but I was hoping you'd look it over and help me decide what roles they should play."

"It should be obvious enough…" I clamp down on my desire to run when she takes my sleeve and tugs me after her. This is normal, after all.

She tugs me down to sit beside her and waits patiently, staring at the book.

I open it and settle it between us so we can both see. "What were you thinking?" Comes tripping out of my mouth before I can stop it.

The closeness was too much, as I knew it would be. I hadn't thought I would blurt out that particular question, but perhaps holding back too many things at once will mean you do not always know which thing will escape you when you lose control.

"Is this because of the Breach?" She asks, looking aside at me with something like resignation on her face.

"No." I pause and lick my lips, fingertips digging into the once-more-closed book. "This is about everything."

She looks down and tugs at her own sleeves. "You know why."

"No. That cannot be all." I take a deep breath and allow myself this line of questioning. It is bothering me far more than I thought. "If that were all…you would not be reckless. You would simply be busy."

She sighs, "any answer I give you is going to sound stupid."

I tilt my head and turn my body to face her, forgetting my promise to myself for just a moment- forgetting to keep distance. "Why do you assume that?"

She looks up and catches my eyes, as she so rarely does. It is always startling, always followed by absolute truth or a drunken assertion if she is suffering from Magical overload… "You protect me from everything."

My brow tightens into a frown. "That is my job, yes."

She huffs. "No. It's your job to keep me alive enough to seal the rifts." Her body bobs as she turns to face me, fingertips dancing over her leather-clad legs. "You watch out for me, you nag me to eat and sleep…"

My ears tick back a small fraction, I can feel them and the flush is beginning to spread under my skin again. ' _Get hold of yourself._ '

"You don't have to be that nice, or take care of me that much," She says. Her eyes dart up to mine again, before darting away. "I don't do _any_ thing for you."

And there it is.

"You do many things." I respond, without hesitation. "Just this morning you were attempting to bring me those pastries you make. When I caught you out of bed the first time."

"That doesn't count." She says, scoffing and pulling her feet up into bed. "Anyone could've done that. I just wanted to do it because…" Her face begins to turn pink. "It's all I _can_ do. I can't fight, I can't do magic, I can't…do anything."

"Is that all there is?" I lean forward, elbows on my knees with my hands entwined beneath my chin.

She glances at me and seems to get stuck for a moment, eyes traveling over my face and hands. "It's all you'd actually need me to do." She responds, clenching her own hands in her lap. "Anyone else that got this…" She gestures with her left hand. "They'd have been better. A warrior, a rogue, a mage…a dalish elf, a human noble, a dwarf or a qunari…" She rakes her teeth over her bottom lip. "But I'm just this. This…is all I can do."

I believe I spend a whole minute, simply staring skeptically into her face as she avoids my eyes before…

"I wish to show you something- do you mind?" I stand from the bed and hold out my hand, forgetting my earlier nervousness completely in face of… _this_.

She looks wary, but she takes my hand without hesitation. As always when I offer. "I…guess so?"


	78. Nik POV, Solas POV

He had me dress up in a hooded cloak before we left. Then he dragged me over to his cabin to put on one of his own.

And then he took my hand again and led me down to the tavern.

I'm a little ashamed to admit that I kept my hand dead still so he'd forget he was holding it and just keep…touching me. I mean, it's been a while since I was able to reach out and casually touch anyone that I didn't consider family.

Dorian, family. Varric, family. Josephine, family…everyone's family here.

Solas is…well, I can't feel any other way about him. Even knowing who he is and what he's done and hearing him talk about the races of Thedas the way he does…I can't help the way I tend to gravitate toward him.

Lucky for me, he pulls me into the back of the room and behind a wine rack to sit at a secluded table- because I'm pretty sure I'm bright red and without the shadows back here, he'd be able to see it.

"So why are we here?" I ask as Flissa walks past, grabbing some wine bottles and rushing back to the front- obviously too busy to worry about us.

"One moment." He flicks his wrist and a distortion wraps around us, a wave of magic- a barrier of some kind?

The room gets louder, if that's possible. Voices bouncing off the barrier and suddenly I'm listening to a conversation. A distinct, isolated one.

I blink at the sound of the voices discussing what they're going to order and look at Solas with wide eyes. "Uh…we shouldn't-"

He tilts his head at me and those sharp eyes pierce me. "You need to." In the bubble, his voice seems to echo around us. Mine didn't, which is…interesting.

And while I'm considering that, the voices change.

"...the Herald up and about yet?" Someone says, a feminine voice. Concerned, high-pitched and sweet.

"She _tried_." A masculine voice answers with a laugh. "That elf that's always hoverin' around her, walked her back to her cabin a coupla times this mornin'."

"Oh, I hope she's up soon." Another feminine voice. "I feel s'much safer when she's walkin' the streets."

Well that was…weird. I blink and glance at Solas, but he's just sitting there, watching me. So I'm guessing I need to keep listening.

* * *

 

Solas POV

The evolution of emotion across her face would be shocking if I did not already suspect what she thinks of herself.

The surprise to hear the patrons of the bar speaking of her, concerned for her, missing her. The safety and security she provides. The uncomfortable expression as she is forced to confront the effect she has, that she was completely unaware of.

"...paid today- a hell of a lot more'n usual!" A male voice rejoices.

"That's because the Herald insisted we get paid the same as the humans when she found out we weren't." A feminine voice responds. "Dwarves, Qunari, Elves…unless we're selling Lyrium, we're usually shoved aside." A dwarf.

"Hah. I think even if we had Lyrium comin' out our ears, we'd still be shoved." An elf.

Her expression is taut, as it always is when she's reminded of the inequalities that baffle her.

She is not particularly virtuous, I think. She is logical. Calculating. It doesn't offend her morally, these inequalities, but intellectually. Her morality is different from her logicality.

The next conversation is the one I was hoping to find- directing the sound waves around the barrier to her, I wait for her reaction.

"That nice girl who heals the kids when they get bumped and scraped gave me a charm." An older woman speaks with fondness. "Says there's some kind of barrier spell on it- in case anythin' happens in Haven."

"Nothing's going to happen in Haven!" Another woman, she sounds so sure. "We've the Herald and the Mages- and even the Templars. They was at war, and now they protect us. What is that but divine providence?"

She looks particularly put out at that and I feel a smirk curve my mouth.

"Divine or not, this is the safest damn place in the whole of Ferelden right now." A man's voice, taking a long drink before continuing. "That Seeker, the dwarf with the special crossbow, that elf that keeps the Herald together- ain't nobody comin' after us and gettin' through them."

"I don't know about that Tevinter mage she brought back, though…" The first woman speaks with trepidation.

Nik blinks and her head tilts, listening closely. Of course _this_ would interest her more than hearing about herself- though it irks me to see it.

"He seems so personable, but I don't know…where he's from mages are in charge." The second woman agrees with her. "Shouldn't they hate us just on principal? Like how we feel about them? And they've got slaves!"

"I asked him why he came to the Inquisition, the other day." The man speaks, sounding reticent. "Didn't know what ta think. He jus'…looked over at the Herald. Said somethin' like 'I heard stories and wanted ta see if they were true'."

Her eyes blink more placidly now. "Is this supposed to…I don't get it."

I negate all noise altogether with a simple shift of magic, and she feels it- of course she does. Her head whipping up, tilting. Staring at the barrier with wide eyes. Likely already knowing how it is done. If not in practice, at least in theory.

"You feel you do nothing." I tell her, leaning forward to interlace my fingers under my chin. "But the fact of the matter is- a well-known human noble would be received with less than enthusiasm by the villagers in Haven. You worked with them, in the dirt and the blood- they knew you before you were important. You did not put yourself above them and you still do not."

Her head dips and the hood covers her face as she fidgets. "I'm not-"

"I am aware." I respond, cooly. "A Dalish elf would be met with suspicion, a city elf with a lack of respect- though I'm certain the city elves in Haven would have felt a kinship to you if you were one of them…" None of the humans would have seen her as anything more than a tool if she were an elf. Dalish or not.

I can tell she is struggling for words, an argument.

I do not give her the opportunity. "A Qunari would have frightened them, made them suspicious, and a Dwarf may have had contacts in Orzammar or with other surface Dwarves, but we have those connections through Varric."

Her teeth rake her bottom lip.

"You are of a privileged race, but not a privileged class." I speak slowly, hoping that she is listening to me. Not simply taking the information in, but processing it as well. "You are not religious, but respectful of religion. You are logical, compassionate and somewhat paranoid. And it is likely if it were anyone else Human…a noble, even…they may have simply been a noble like any other."

She lifts her head enough to glance at me from under her hood. "Well yes…but-"

"How do nobles treat nonhumans, Nik?" I ask her, tilting my head when she flinches at the sound of her name. "How do they do business?"

Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips, an anxious movement. "…I know."

"I want you to stop this nonsense." I gesture with my hand toward my own head. "Thinking anyone would be better than you, when in reality...I'm not quite sure there's anyone else like you in all of Thedas. I believe we're quite lucky you were marked." If it were anyone, I would have wanted them to be wicked- I thought. So the suffering would be deserved. But what she has turned the suffering _into_.

"If it weren't you, I shudder to think what this other, unnamed person would have done with all this unchecked power." I go on, sighing and attempting to peer into her eyes. "They certainly would not have this immense fear of taking advantage of others, I am certain. And no one else could have made these mages into friends- family even! To these Villagers."

She dips her head, "I just feel…like I should be more."

"Everyone does." I respond, reaching across the small table to pull one of her hands atop it to grasp it tightly. "I do, as well."

She blinks and gazes at me as if she doesn't know me. "What more could you be?" Baffled, as if it is incomprehensible.

A laugh escapes me. "Humble, perhaps."

She snorts in response. "I don't think that counts. I mean, you are…sometimes."

"Not nearly enough," I say. "I could also, perhaps…as you say…be more open-minded."

She looks up at me from under her hood like I've just promised her the moon. "About…?"

Another smirk ticks up the side of my mouth and her eyes dart there before coming back to my eyes. Holding my gaze longer than she has before.

"I have met some of the hunters you employ." Dalish without clans, Dalish with clans they must support elsewhere. "They are stubborn, on the whole- but I suppose not all of them are quite as fearful and hostile toward outsiders as I'd thought."

There is so much relief in the way her body relaxes, it worries me. Does she worry so much over how I treat others? That is quite upsetting in its own way.

"They hold onto their pride so hard because humans keep trying to beat it out of them." She responds, quietly. "They have to be stubborn and hostile, to protect themselves. They lost all their trust for people they don't know." Her expression is so forlorn, I find myself stroking her hand with my fingertips.

She looks embarrassed rather than broken- I prefer it. "You are earning it, I believe." Her efforts to extend aid to the clans have not gone unnoticed by anyone. Of that I am sure. The Dalish shrine to their gods…while it is a constant reminder of everything I have done…it is a gesture that they recognize as a risk.

She risks everything and nothing, with each new day. Taking risks that ultimately pay off in one way or another. Though I sometimes think she is unsure it will do so at all at the time she takes it.

There is a smile, then. Something small and genuine that I have not often seen on her face. Her scar does not turn this smile into anything other than what it is. "I hope so." Her eyes are glittering with some strong emotion and that pang of admiration and gratefulness in her energy is welcome to me, now.

She has listened.


	79. Chapter 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eh. Have another chapter. Just cause.

The flares the scouts are equipped with, are veilfire. Charmed by the mages, put on the end of a bolt that they'd shoot into the sky with a small modified crossbow. Meant to shoot it straight up as far as possible.

The Soldiers in Haven saw them go up and began evacuations immediately. And since the Scouts with the flares were a few miles out from Haven- we had time.

Solas and I stuck together after leaving the Tavern and seeing the people running around- after finding out that someone was coming. Well. Solas stuck to me and I kept glancing around to see exactly where he was when I'd forgotten to for the past ten minutes.

I began evacuation procedures in earnest, sending the kids and elderly first out on the path behind the Chantry. Chancellor Roderick was back and as irritating as ever, but after figuratively grabbing him by the balls and making him look bad for arguing when he could be guiding the people _as per his job_ \- he shut up and took the civilians that were ready to go.

Solas and I spread ourselves thin, helping people pack up their stuff, hitch up the Druffalo to carts as they snorted and stamped nervously at our energy.

"Herald!" Dorian comes rushing up the path toward us. "The mages are ready to do whatever you require, but it will take time to pack up what's left of the healing potions, lyrium and all our ingredients."

"Tell half of them to watch from the walls with the Scouts." I say absent-mindedly as Solas and I pack a crate on a wagon full of the flour from the larder. Me handing bags of things up to him and him packing it into a box. "When the enemy gets close enough to be a problem, they can throw up a barrier and hold them off for a little bit longer…hopefully."

"While your cooperative casting initiatives have taught the mages to work in tandem…I doubt they have the skill to weave one continuous barrier and keep it solidified." Solas takes the rice sack from me next and puts it in the crate, finally fastening it shut- tight and overfull.

"Can you?" I ask as he hops down.

He gives me a sidways look, "I am not leaving you alone with an army bearing down on us."

I open my mouth, and he cuts me off.

"No." He stares me down for a long moment until I huff and throw my hands in the air. "I'm certain Dorian will be able to figure it out." Almost like he regrets the words as they leave his mouth.

"Oh yes." Dorian nods his head, looking over Solas with a pointed gaze. "In Tevinter this kind of casting is quite common in the Magisterium. Well…common when there's a threat that needs to be put down and unified against."

"Like Qunari and slave rebellions." I say, turning on my heel and glancing back only once. "Get them in place and do whatever necessary and possible to hold them off as long as you can."

Dorian looked a bit surprised at first, but he nods and walks toward the mages up near the healing cabin.

"You are being harder on Dorian than usual." Solas walks up next to me as I survey the scurrying about of my people. "Any particular reason?"

"If you're asking if the pressure is getting to me, no." I respond, blinking blankly at the people packing their things. "We'll survive this, even if we have to lose Haven to do it. I just feel it'd be better to be blunt when the subject comes up and then move past it. I'm hoping to jarr him enough to make him think." Shrugging, I head for the next cart still being filled with food.

"You seem to be changing tack quite frequently." He observes with some curiosity.

"Do it one way too long, they start to block it out." I respond with a half-smile. "This way, he's kept off-balance on the subject. I don't want him to freak out about it yet, but I want him to start questioning himself and Tevinter. I'm playing the long game on this one."

"I'm aware of your plans for Dorian, but still I wonder…" Solas stops me next to the wagon and turns me to face him. "Why waste so much time on someone like him?"

I lift a single eyebrow. "You mean an ignorant bigot who thinks he's right all the time? I dunno. Why do I waste so much time on you?"

His ears flick back and he takes a step away- then his expression goes blank. "I am not leaving you."

"I wasn't attempting to anger you, it's just the truth." I know he's thinking I'm trying to push him away. " _You're_ learning. Why can't he?"

There is a struggle in his expression there, I can see it. But I turn around and start helping the villagers to load up their possessions on their wagon last. Just the very bare minimum of them, though. The really important stuff. Can't be weighed down with junk out there.

A pair of elegant, pale hands appear to help before long and the thoughtful expression on Solas's face worries me more than it reassures me. Is he trying to figure something out? What?

Something about the attack? About how I became more paranoid after the Breach was sealed- I mean, there's no way he can know that I knew it would happen eventually. But he might deduce that I'm a lot smarter than I am. Anticipating things and then being right about them.

"Herald!" A timid voice calls out to me.

I turn and sigh at the sight of my Justicars-in-training, standing in a large group, awaiting orders. "Yes?"

"We have not been assigned to anything, my lady." Dahlia tells me. "What is it we should do?"

There are Soldiers and Scouts in charge of protecting the civilians and fighting the oncoming enemy while they escape…there are healers that'll be traveling along…

"Honestly if you see a job to be done, do it." I respond. "I'm not going to hold your hand and point and say 'heal that person who's obviously about to die' because you should already know that much." My lips quirk in a smirk as they shift uncomfortably in place. "You're gonna have to exercise those critical thinking skills I've been teachin' ya."


	80. Varric POV, Dorian POV

Hangin' back with Schemer and Chuckles might not have been the best of ideas. There are only two wagons left, and they're set to leave just about now. If we don't go…

"Varric, we'll be fine." There's so much exhaustion in her eyes, even if her body isn't drooping. "You need to get out with Cole and Dorian."

Sparkler is standing off to the side looking nervous, blood dripping from his mouth. He ended up overdoing the magic thing- the barrier broke about two minutes ago and now all that separates us from the encroaching forces of Tevinter mages, leftover Red Templars and assorted slaves enthralled with blood magic- is the wall around Haven.

"I'm not certain about leaving you and Solas alone, here." Dorian swipes at his mouth and spits as delicately as he can, making a face at the bloody snow. "I'm not of much use, but you could keep Cole and Varric at the least."

"I have a very specific plan that's already been modified once to fit Solas in." Schemer says, a little irritated. "I really have this covered. I know no one thinks I can handle this, but I _can_."

"It isn't whether or not you can handle it, Schemer." I say. "You get paranoid and plan for every possible thing that could go wrong, but what if something happens that you aren't expecting?"

She snorts. "I _am_ capable of improvisation. And if I fuck up and step the wrong way, I'm sure Solas will do something to mitigate the damage." She doesn't sound happy about it.

"I am still not leaving." He says, quiet. Expression mild, tone steady. "So yes. I will."

There's something there, in Chuckles's face. Something that tells me he's thinking the same as the rest of us. Remembering…what the Kid said.

While she was unconscious, the kid got agitated and started muttering about needing to tell someone about something- so we asked him if he could tell one of us.

He sat down at the fire where Sparkler and I had finally roped Chuckles into sitting down to relax for a few minutes and chewed his lip.

" _She needs someone. She doesn't realize."_ He'd looked so spooked, it spooked _us_. _"So many things are different because she made it different. So many things are the same, but not enough. I don't want to leave her alone. But she'll stand alone because it's what she's done, it's what she_ _ **does**_ _."_

When he'd looked at Chuckles and Sparkler and said very seriously, _"it needs to be one of you, or she might die. Solas can use the energy. Dorian can't."_ Sparkler and I were confused. Chuckles just looked resolved about something- so I guess maybe he figured out what she was planning before the rest of us.

It makes sense, in hindsight.

The Elder One, Corypheus, whoever the hell he is- sounds like he's got an ego the size of Ferelden.

Schemer swiping the Mages and the Templars out from under him- that had to hurt. So, it stands to reason he'd come at her with as much as he could as soon as he could. Get back some of his reputation and credibility or something.

But how did she know it would be coming _now_? After the Breach, instead of directly after she scooped up the mages? Or while she was recruiting the Chargers after sending Curly off to get the Templars?

Sending all her advisors but Ruffles and the Nightingale off in different directions, only keeping me and the kid with Sparkler, Chuckles and Tiny- then sending Tiny and his Chargers off with the first wave of civilians getting the hell out?

She never planned for us to win whatever this is. She knew somehow that we'd fail- and now that all that's left in Haven are-

…no.

No, Schemer's not that…cold.

Is she?

* * *

 

Dorian POV

Riding off into the sunset and away from danger should be a happy feeling, should it not?

"I don't want to leave them here." I say aloud, coughing a bit and spitting out more blood. The bleeding is slowing, but my body is slow to recover from the strain I put it under to buy us a few minutes more. "She's going to die here, isn't she?"

"She survives this time." Cole speaks from across the wagon, startling me a bit. "She doesn't know if it will hurt, but she survives."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Don't ask the kid to explain himself, he uh…" Varric chuckles weakly from beside me. "He doesn't really get how to talk to people without using facts they don't know about people and it's confusing as shit. She's still trying to teach him…"

"She knows how to survive this." Cole says, firmly. "I will go find her when it is over. I will find both of them. She knew I would come looking." His eyes haze and his voice changes to a familiar cadence. " _Don't look for us before you know you should, Cole. You know I'll be fine. Protect them until I can get back- don't worry about me._ " He blinks his eyes clear. "She knew I was thinking about it. She always knows."

"That was her just _now_?" I ask with some incredulity. "So she's still alive at this moment, at least."

Cole nods and then…seems to become fuzzy for a moment-before popping back into existence.

"What the hell was that?" Varric noticed as well, I gather.

Cole's eyes are wide and alarmed. "I can't make you forget to see me anymore."

"What does that mean?" If his stealth abilities are compromised that will be quite an inconvenience, but nothing to really be concerned about, I hope.

He looks at us with awe in his gaze and speaks softly, "it means you _want_ to remember me."

"Well, yes." I respond, lifting a brow. "We never truly wanted you to make us forget you at all."

"No, you don't understand!" He shifts in his seat and ducks his head. "It means you want to see me! You know what I am and you want to see me!" He seems quite agitated-

When his head lifts, there is a glimmer of moisture in his eyes and a brilliant smile spreads over his face. "We're friends!"


	81. Nik POV, Solas POV

It happened so fast, I could barely react.

We went out front to help the Templars left behind with us to defend the Trebuchets, like we're supposed to. Like I'd intended to do alone-

And there she was.

"Herald, what's happening!?" Miera ran from my nearby cabin in the woods with little Viva in a sling across her chest- "I was just out berry picking and had to stop in to feed Viva-"

I ran toward her and felt that magical distortion that meant fade-step the last time I used it. "Miera!"

How? It's been almost forty-five minutes since the beginning of everything. How could she have been gone- how could no one have gone looking for her!?

I'm one step too late to stop a shard of Red Lyrium from stabbing through her side, but my instinctive, weak barrier thrown up- manages to keep Viva from getting impaled by it as well.

I grasp her in my arms and drag her back behind an overturned wagon for cover while Solas helps the Templars fight off the new round of abominations. "No. No!" I pick up Viva from the sling and hold her against me as I press the mark against Miera's wounds.

Miera claws at my arms, holding tightly and gasping for air. "V…vi…"

"I have her, I promise!" I think I'm crying but I can't feel my face or my eyes. I can only feel my mark sputtering and refusing to do anything when I try to nudge it. I haven't figured out healing magic with this damn thing yet! " _Please_ , no!"

Miera sighs her last breath and lays a hand on Viva's head as her eyes slowly close forever.

"Nik, what-" Solas comes around the side of the wagon and goes pale at the sight of Miera lying beneath me.

Viva is screaming, red-faced and breathless.

"We need to move to the next, Nik." Solas is looking down at Viva rather than her mother, eyes focused with his brows furrowed. "We need to…"

There is a loud roaring as a winged beast swoops over our heads and I know time is up. We can't put this off any longer. I have to do this now, if I want Viva to be safe.

"You know about the tunnels under Haven?" I ask in a flat voice.

He looks down at me with a pinched expression. "Yes."

"The entrance near that Trebuchet in the walls. You need to go there, with her." I stand up and hold Viva out to him. "I can't do what I need to do with her in my arms and I have no stealth ability."

He stares for a long moment at her blood-spattered little blanket and reaches out to take her from me, meeting my eyes. "Do not make me come and get you, Herald."

"Don't worry about it." I reply flatly. "This is going to happen in one of two ways, and neither ways ends up with me dead." And then I turn on my heel and stalk toward the second Trebuchet.

I'll need to draw their attention away from Solas as long as it takes for him to get into position.

My spirit reaches back for his, taking hold of the edge of it when it reaches back- like clasping hands and marching in different directions.

When he lets go, I'll know he's in position.

* * *

 

Solas POV

Her expression deadened when I found her. Fear and horror disappearing behind a mask of complete emotionlessness.

( _Sometimes when I'm too emotional, my emotions shut off. Just so nobody panics, that's normal. I mean, it's not good- but I'll come out of it eventually. Crying, probably._ ) She explained this state to us so long ago, when the rest of the inner circle began to ask tentative questions about her anxiety. About how it affects her.

Even knowing it is 'normal' for her, a reaction to stress- the absence of emotion on her face frightened me. And the feeling of her spirit clutching at mine shocked me, at first.

It felt like a creature clawing at me, not a person. Something empty and devoid of anything but a swirling _something_ that defied explanation or identification.

I grabbed tight and held onto her with everything I am, projecting waves of calm and warmth- hoping to bring her back to herself gently when she snaps back. I only hope she does not snap into _anything_ until this is over.

She intends me to signal her when I am in position, we discussed this method of communication before…

I find myself not wanting to let go. Even when I have hidden my presence in the tunnel, Viva tied tightly around my front with scavenged cloth from one of the Inquisition flags that were torn down.

I release her spirit slowly, my own caressing the clawed energy as it retreats.

I thought the world cold and bleak before but I was wrong. _This_ absence of emotion is much more unnerving than I ever thought possible. ' _Please, don't let this last long._ ' I do not know who I am asking-

But the thought of someone vibrant and full of life like Nik- empty, hollow…it is _wrong_. It disturbs me on levels I cannot comprehend. I will beg every god I know of to bring her back from this.

The wait for her to show herself seems nearly endless. Especially with the myriad abominations wandering about.

When she does, I am alarmed at the blood dripping from her hands. But it seems…she has cut her palms on purpose. Blood magic?

' _She hadn't perfected that spell yet._ ' Why would she bind herself to these abominations? It makes no sense at all to me. Does she intend to confuse them? She will feel everything!

She steps into the very center of the clearing, and there is a flash of light I must duck my head to avoid blinding me.

When I look up, the abominations are all dead…but there are- oh. No. Nik, don't.

There are slaves in ragged clothing, marching steadily toward her with glowing red eyes. She has already done it, it seems. There is a latticework of magic connecting her to all of them- beyond even this area. The Mark intensifying the magic- but how could she distinguish them from the abominations? From the Venatori, from…

She inhales slowly and deeply as she wraps scrap cloth around her hands with closed eyes.

When she opens them, she is staring upward and her voice echoes as a barrier moves outward from her in a circle- pushing the slaves back, shoving them out of range. "I'm here if you want me. Why not come down and say 'hello'?"

The lack of emotion is unnerving and worrying. I do not worry that she will be reckless, she always is in one way or another- but that she may allow herself to fall.

I reach out for her spirit with mine, intending to determine what exactly she is doing-

The Dragon that looks akin to an Archdemon, it swoops down and circles the area- the Slaves pulling back instead of pushing forward, allowing their master to do as he likes as he steps down from the Dragon's back.


	82. Chapter 82

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double update so you're not left in TOTAL suspense...

I did the whole dance the way I was supposed to, though I did it somewhat blankly.

I asked the right questions, I edged back toward the Trebuchet and when he threw me, my back cracking against the wooden frame- I stood up and kicked the lever.

It was painful, running with my back hurt like that- but when I got to the tunnel entrance, Solas was there to pull me down and help me climb the ladder into the tunnel.

We ducked underneath the scaffolding as the snow rushed to fill the yawning cavern- Solas's barrier and a hasty fire rune keeping us safe and warm until it was over. Though…it lasted more than a few minutes. It's all a blur, really.

Standing with Solas, against the icy wall behind us, his arms wrapped around me, Viva trapped between us.

Viva was asleep and when I asked, Solas admitted to using magic to do so. I don't think there's anything wrong with it, but he seems kind of ashamed of himself, so I guess it's just exercising magic without someone's consent.

The mark did what it was supposed to do with my binding spell, and I can feel it working through the connections to keep doing what I intended it to.

I walk out of the mines with Solas, but stop at the entrance. "We need to wait here for a bit."

"Are you injured?" He asks, glancing down at Viva as if regretting handing her back to me.

It's the easiest answer, "yes." Because I don't know if it really worked and I don't want him to be upset about the risk again.

"Sit down." He drops his pack and takes off his vest, making a spot for me to sit, laying down a fire rune for warmth. He's so methodical I wonder if maybe he's upset about the plan, or that I didn't mention it till now.

But I'm too exhausted to worry about it.

I sit and shiver at the first touch of his magic. It's gentler than usual, like he's afraid to touch me with it. Drifting across my skin with delicate warmth and soothing away the aches and pains in my back and shoulders.

His hands touch my arms and I nearly flinch away in surprise. But I still and I let him draw small designs on my arms, all the way down to my elbows- making me warmer by degrees in more ways than one.

I'm not ready for these feelings, these warm things- I shove them away and drop my head, simply enjoying the lack of pain for the moment. If I feel the good, I'll have to feel the bad. I don't want to. Not yet. I can't.

And then I feel the tugs. As the other side of the bonds become aware of me and move toward me. "Can we stay here for a while?" I ask with a husky voice.

There is a pause behind me as he seems to think that over. "I will follow you when you wish to go. There is no need to rush, I suppose."

Corypheus either thinks me dead or assumes I'm badly injured or even that I might have lost the will to fight- his ego's so huge I wouldn't doubt he thought he scared me off if nothing else. So he likely won't be hunting for me- in favor of gaining lost ground, I think.

It's my fault the slaves were there. It is. No one else will know it was my fault. They'll just see what happened, not what was supposed to happen. If I'd left either the mages or the templars to Corypheus, he wouldn't have needed to magically brainwash so many to use them in his army.

He probably only did the brainwashing because it made them more efficient and emotionless. Well. Not completely. I can still feel the humming of the anger he imbued in them through our link. It's almost gone, fading quickly- but the evidence left behind…

I get up with Viva in my arms when I feel them get close enough a few minutes later to sense with my spirit instead of the bond. "They aren't attacking, don't hurt them." I mutter as I walk off into the open with Solas following me.

"Who? What are you-" There is a moment when we pause and he sees them coming that his whole body goes rigid, and then slack.

I can see the understanding after a moment, and when he turns to me with eyes full of shock, I respond with: "What did you expect?"

"How?" He asks, looking at the slaves, newly freed from their magical bindings to Corypheus and now bound harmlessly to me. "Why?"

"Remember when you said my blood is in flux?" I blink blankly at him. "And that from one day to the next, small bits of it are different from the day before. Like the mark is subtly changing me from the inside?"

His expression is still the same, wide-eyed with parted lips. "Yes?" He asks numbly.

"I asked Dorian how to break blood-magic thrall spells." I inform him. "He's been teaching me. Combining that with the spell you were teaching me for binding the justicars- I was able to release them from their binding to Corypheus's agents."

The slaves are ringed around us now, listening to me, watching with wary eyes.

"Through the binding I was able to put barriers over all of them- the ones still alive when I cast the spell." I blink again, reciting the process as I go, feeling something building deep within myself. "Then I connected the barriers, making a path of packed snow tunnels that they could follow out here to us."

My body warms from the inside, but it's an uncomfortable warmth.

His eyes are still watching me with something stark and startled. I don't know what it means.

"And since my blood is changing every day a little more- it'll take about a week or two…but the bond with them will wear off and deteriorate until it's gone." Sighing and feeling my limbs beginning to shake, I try to ignore the emotions trying to rush back to me.

"It's not their fault they had to come here and do this." I say.

' _It's my fault. This is my fault. I should have done it better._ '

And that's when I burst into tears, falling to my knees in the snow with baby Viva cradled to my chest- remembering the pain and the fear and the uncertainty-feeling the fatigue and the pain from overusing the mark-

A pair of arms wraps around me and pulls me gently into a warm body, a pair of lips pressing into my temple with such force it almost hurts. Solas whispers something in a broken voice, but I can't really hear it over my sobbing and I have no attention left to parse it.


	83. Dahlia POV, Iron Bull POV, Dorian POV

The Demon boy, 'Cole' led us out into the snow with confident footsteps, beyond the ridge behind us that he insisted we bed down beyond to camp. The ridge he said the Herald would be working her way toward.

No one asks how she will know to come here. Cole knows everything she's thinking. Has some sort of link to her mind that's less tenuous than the link he has to everyone else. Stronger… _more_.

He walked out into the snow with all of us following him, lights of all kinds leeching into the snowy darkness.

My magic is a riotous shimmer of green and black. Light dancing before me and brightening the path forward until-

"Solas!" The Seeker calls out to the apostate ahead of us, cradling a small, familiar body to his chest.

' _Lady Herald!_ ' She is so _pale_.

He lifts his head, sighing in relief. "Seeker." He is, as well.

And then we take note of the shapes moving behind him, coming into view.

The Seeker draws her sword, cursing. The dwarf smoothly draws his crossbow and the Tevinter and I ready our magic. Balls of fire dancing in his palms, glowing clouds of entropy in mine.

But the demon stands before us with his hands up, "they aren't his anymore. They are following _her_."

It is then we truly see them. Slaves, haggard and cold, stumbling through the snow. A woman standing tall beside the apostate with a babe in her arms. She looks blank-eyed, but strong. It seems he has cast some sort of fire rune on a barrier over her and himself, but it does not extend to the rest.

His mana pool seems to be nearly drained. I can feel the mana burn in him, just beginning.

The Tevinter rushes forward, "I can take her- you're running on empty, Solas!" He snaps the second part when the apostate almost seems about to argue. "You don't want to drop her, do you?"

The elf's expression drifts between irritation and sorrow as he hands the Herald off to the Tevinter. I know he's never trusted him, not truly- but the Herald does.

And the moment she's in his arms and I can feel the network of healing magic running over her and see how tightly he clutches her to his chest- so do I. Regardless of his original intentions, it will be very difficult for _Dorian_ to betray the Herald.

She was right- that he could be trusted. I can see it all over his face.

The slaves are gathered by the rest of us, Solas being led off by Cassandra who throws one of his arms over her shoulders and hushes him when he protests.

I find the slave with the babe as we walk into camp and ask, "whose babe is that?"

The woman blinks glassy eyes at me, "the mistress gave her to me to hold."

The instant recoil inside of me is well-hidden. 'Mistress', she's going to love _that_. "Do you know what-"

I see the babe's face, then. Wondering what on earth little _Viva_ is doing out here with these slaves in the snow. "Do you know what happened to her mother?"

The slave blinks again and says, "no, miss. I do not know."

* * *

 

Iron Bull POV

Solas is hovering around her more than usual while she's unconscious.

I mean, he had to sleep when he first got to camp, but refused to until we got a cot and set it up next to hers- then when he woke up, he started constantly walking over to check on her in-between everything else he was doin'.

Laying down runes, healing people with frostbite or exposure- that's what the Herald called it- Exposure. He looked after the kids that now have no mother to look after them. He's kinda sucky at the whole comfort thing, but making pretty lights dance to entertain the kids works just as well as a hug sometimes.

The times it doesn't, Josephine is there.

( _Miera was a good, kind soul. We will not easily replace her._ ) The guy used to talk to her, I'd see them sometimes. Talking about the kids. Body language distant but friendly. He liked her, admired her even. And now she's gone.

That doesn't account for his sudden distance, though. Something else happened. Maybe during the fight, maybe after.

He goes out with the Scouts every morning and helps hunt enough ram, rabbit and _squirrel_ to make a big-ass stew for everyone. It's so meaty and thick and just _delicious_ \- well. We didn't go hungry, anyway.

When it was time for her to eat, he took the broth but left out the meat. Then he sat her up against his chest and dripped it slowly into her mouth, massaging her throat- so he wouldn't have to wake her up to eat.

She was so pale when they first showed up. We almost thought she was dead. She's still a little gray around the edges- but she's getting better.

( _She has overtaxed herself again. Done damage to her body. I will have to monitor her to be certain she does not require healing._ ) Apparently her body's been suckin' up magic and usin' it to repair itself.

It would make more sense if her magic had some kind of mind of its own. Keeping its host alive and all. That thought is too creepy. Eugh.

Every movement he makes is tense and his expression never changes from that weird, blank wall that he hides behind. The one he uses when he's angry or sad or just when he doesn't want anyone to talk to him. Unwelcoming, bland.

His hands when he touches her are soft, gentle- tender even. The guy is so in love it probably hurts.

And he doesn't even know, does he? Poor asshole.

* * *

 

Dorian POV

Solas is so insufferable! I attempt to offer my assistance in attending the Herald and he nearly _growls_ at me in his haste to get me away.

I end up mostly providing defense against mad wolves, stray demons and the odd bandit that somehow crosses our path, don't even ask me what they're doing up here…

Leliana and Josephine are of one mind. While Leliana has been sending ravens to alert the Commander and the others in the inner circle of our predicament- Josephine has been holding down the fort.

We are not moving until the Herald wakes and is deemed well enough to walk on her own.

Seeing her so pale, ashen and drained in Solas's arms- then in my own as I carried her into camp…

Well, it has been quite a while since I've felt so afraid for someone.

"Come on, we can go get firewood. It'll be fun, like a game!" There is a man engaging one of the children from the Herald's little gaggle of orphans. "I'll give you a candy for every bundle you help me pick up!"

I pause to watch, not sure why. I'm just far enough he apparently hasn't heard my footsteps crunching about in the snow. And I'm half-hidden by a tree.

I've just come from collecting the nearby herbs- after all, many of our Scouts and Soldiers are hurt simply hunting or defending our place here. ' _Why do I feel so strange?_ '

Nik often encouraged the children to interact with people in the villages, but there were- ah. The rules!

"Lady Herald says we don't go anywhere alone." The child informs him, her big hazel eyes blinking placidly at him. "And that we don't go with people offerin' us candy."

The man's smile seems to freeze on his face and he gets down to her level, on his knees. "Well, you won't be alone. You'll be with _me_. And I can just not offer ya candy, can I?"

The girl seems confused by this. "I…"

What was her name…? Illy, Illa…Illani! Yes, that's right.

"Illani!" I walk out from behind a tree, smiling gamely. "Shouldn't you be doing your reading with Josephine?" I phrase it playfully and see the flush spreading over her suddenly bashful face with amusement. "Go on, then. I'll help your friend find firewood."

She turns on her heel and rushes off, not comprehending the danger she was just in. I shall have to speak with her, remind her of the Herald's rules for interacting again. She was supposed to scream and run away.

"Eh…I can handle it m'self." The man is put-out and irritated, now. "I was jus' gonna give her somethin' ta do."

"Cole?" I call out into the camp.

He flickers into being near the fire where Illani is sitting with Josephine. He disappears and reappears on his way over to us, though with less space between disappearances than usual. "Yes." He stops beside me.

"You know what needs to be done, don't you?" I ask. If he can't, I will.

"I know. I was waiting for them to go into the woods." He waves his hand at the man's face and his expression becomes lax. "I will take him now, and make them forget they saw me or you with him at all."

"No no." I shake my head and gesture at the woods. "Take him out, do what's necessary- but don't erase any minds. Nik will wake and we will tell her. No matter what happens in the meantime, it's what she would prefer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a Note-- the Qunari don't really practice the whole 'in love' thing-- but they know it when they see it. They can define it and notice it. Just for any nitpickers who might say Iron Bull noticing this kind of thing would be out of character or something.
> 
> lol.


	84. Solas POV

She is awake.

I am relieved…but irritated.

Why? Because I came back to her cot to find it empty- and had to go _looking_ for her.

' _ **Infuriating**_ _woman._ '

I found her with the children, of course. Sitting in their midst on a blanket with a fire rune underneath, she smiles. Pale faced, dark circles under her eyes- but they sparkle with laughter as the children run around the fire, telling their own version of the story of the attack on Haven.

Dorian is sitting next to her, Cole watching from behind her. At the very least I never have to worry that our spirit friend will let her pass out in the snow.

Cole glances up and blinks at me when we catch each other's gaze. He turns his head and tilts it toward the command tent. "Time to go." He mutters to the Herald.

She glances up at him with a sigh, "I don't know why you won't just tell me what's going on."

"Not out here, _Amicus_." Dorian interjects, smiling for the children. "It is important."

I follow them as they help her to her feet and attempt not to hover. Hovering is why she does these things- running off without telling me, trying to do things herself…why is it so hard not to hover?

We file into the command tent, interrupting a discussion between Josephine and Leliana.

"What is it, Herald?" Leliana looks to Nik for explanation first, as she usually would.

Nik shrugs and looks to Dorian.

Who tugs the opening to the tent closed and throws a soundproof barrier around it. "We need to discuss something that happened before anyone begins to…miss someone."

"Miss whom?" I ask, shifting in place, hands clasping behind my back.

"He was going to hurt her." Cole fidgets beside Nik, looking up at her from under the brim of his hat. He has not been this nervous toward her in quite some time. "I know what you wanted me to do, but I don't know if you'll feel different, now that it's real."

Nik's eyes narrow and she tilts her head. "Cole, if it's something you know I wouldn't have a problem with-"

"It isn't that simple," Dorian sighs. "To everyone else, we will have seemed to have had no evidence. To have acted without any authorization."

"You're like…" She pauses and counts something on her fingers. "Seventh in charge down the line of succession. So to speak. You've got the authority to do a lot…wait." She blinks. "Are you saying you _killed_ someone? Dorian! That's my area!"

"I know, I know." He puts up a pair of placating hands. "But I didn't want to leave to chance that he could get away. We have no jail cells here."

"But- you killed him? The only crimes punishable by death are- and you said 'she' which means he should've been-"

"Illani, Nik." Dorian cuts her off. "He was trying to lure Illani into the woods."

The color, what little there is, drains from Nik's face. I can feel a shiver wracking my frame- this is… _disgusting_.

She blinks. "I really fucking hope you made him suffer first." The instantaneous change from perplexion to blank comprehension to _fury_ is disorienting.

"I didn't want him to scream and make them come looking." Cole says, mildly abashed.

"Fucking…" She begins to pace in tight circles, then weaves as she stops, apparently dizzy. "Fine. It's fine. I talked about it with all of you, you were acting under orders even if I didn't give them to you at the time. It still counts."

"Indeed it does." Josephine looks mildly sick herself. "But even still, we should prepare some kind of address for the people. To tell them…what happened and why."

"We can't, Josephine." Nik sighs heavily. "We have no evidence, Dorian's right. Most people won't take the word of a spirit, a _demon_." She rolls her eyes and throws her hands up. "So you're just gonna have to tell them what he was attempting to do and that we caught him in the act. Not before, not after- _during_. You can use misleading language for that."

"You are going to lie to them?" That is a surprise. "Would they not approve of removing such a danger?"

Her eyes turn to me, tired and angry. "No. They would ask for proof, demand it. Some who knew him would deny he'd ever do such a thing- some who don't really know him will say 'he seemed so normal' and that will create doubt. We have to present it in such a way they have no choice but to believe."

Her hands run over her face and when they are removed, there are tears glimmering in her eyes. "Is Illani alright?"

"She's completely unaware she was in danger, though I went over the rules with all of them again- reminding them they are supposed to scream and run when strangers attempt to take them anywhere." Dorian responds with a curl to the edge of his mouth. Not happy, a facsimile of a smile.

"Good. That's…good." She turns and curls into Cole, to our surprise. "I'm tired."

Cole turns her so he might sweep her legs out from under her and hold her against his chest. "You don't want to sleep. Why?"

She gives a breathy laugh, "s'too much to do."

"You will do it later," I wave my hand and her eyes droop closed.

"Is that entirely healthy?" Josephine expresses her concern. "Being forced into the Fade so often?"

"It is not _unhealthy_." I respond, perhaps a bit blankly. "And she would be unable to sleep otherwise. We've spoken about this."

"Ah, her insomnia." Dorian chuckles. "She's told me you help with that every now and again but she didn't say you had carte blanche to just put her to sleep whenever you like." His brows lift in my direction. "A dreamer, aren't you?"

My eyes narrow and I can feel my ears flick back. "I visit her in the Fade to be certain she is healing and whole, yes."

He chuckles again, a spark of mirth in his eyes. "Is that _all_ you get up to?"

"I will be in her tent with her, if anyone has need of me." I do not respond to his ridiculous question, turning to address Leliana instead.

Her eyes sparkle with laughter, but she only says: "We know where to find you, Solas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In answer to something Failisse said:
> 
> "Speaking of which, who's Creepy McCreepster creeping in on the children? I hope by "take him out" Dorian means slit his throat. I don't know if that guy's a pedophile or slave trader, and frankly I don't care. He needs his ass buried 5 feet under the grass. I wholly and thoroughly believe in people like that not getting second chances. I'm not even sure Nik has much compassion for monsters like those."
> 
> Nik has absolutely NO compassion for molesters. You can see that illustrated in this chapter. There are reasons she reacts so violently and you will eventually learn of them.


	85. Yvanna POV, Solas POV

It's all so confusing.

The mistress gave me the babe. I carried the babe to the camp, like Messere Solas told me to. I gave the babe back when he asked for her. He is her favorite, I can tell. I did like he asked, like she asked- I am a good slave, I am _good_ …

I did good, didn't I?

"It is not…" Messere Solas is sitting across the fire from us, squinting at it. "This is not a punishment, or a censure."

"Why aren't we working, for the mistress?" I ask, my voice breaking at the end. "We did as we were told, we did good, didn't we?" We wanted to please her, we so wanted to please her, she didn't let us die and she could have left us. She took us and we are safe and she promised we would stay safe, the Mistress-

"The Herald is giving you time to acclimatize to your new surroundings. Please, take this time to rest and learn how the Inquisition works." He says, looking sick. Skin paler and eyes duller than I have seen them.

"Do you need a cuppa?" I ask, shifting in my place on the log we're using as seats. "You look so pale, I can get you-"

"I am _fine_." He stands and paces around the stump he was just sitting on, staring at the ground. "The Herald is simply…" He stops and turns to face us, hands clasping behind his back as his expression settles in practiced disinterest. "She wishes to reward you for your efforts with rest. That is all. Please do as she requests."

Oh- it is an order, I cannot disobey an order. "We shall, we shall!"

The men and women clustered around me are all stolen slaves- that creature took us all from our Masters. From our families- our fellow slaves- my _children_ \- it was nice to hold a babe again… The Mistress promised to buy our families so that we could be together- promised to get them _all_.

But we must be good, we must do our jobs and we must _rest_ as the Mistress asks.

* * *

 

Solas POV

I am _nauseated_.

It has been a very long time since I led the rebellion. I am too discomfited speaking with slaves any longer. I will have to reacclimatize- the parts of myself that were good at this-

No. It is pointless to dwell on that now.

I do not know how Nik did this when she handed Viva over. She was able to frame the request in such a way that Yvanna could take it as a soft order- but in fact was not. _(Would you mind carrying Viva for me? I don't think I can anymore._ )

I walk over to the children's area- pondering whether or not I am simply not the person to do this anymore. She asked me to deliver the request that the slaves stop working and simply _rest_. Eat, sleep, regain their strength. ( _I hate to pull the race card, but talking to an elf might make them feel safer. Especially since they think…_ )

Her expression had twisted up in disgust at that and I had simply accepted the task.

They think I am her slave, because it is all they know. We have not corrected them- as Nik believes they have enough to acclimatize to without taking the one bit of comfort they have in myself and the other elves. We will no longer be kindred to them if they knew- they would no longer perceive us as safe.

How did I forget how upsetting even _speaking_ to a slave can be? Was it ever this bad for me before…?

"Solas?" Nik's voice and then, ah. Her face. In front of me.

I am standing in her tent. The large canvas tent that is on the other end of the children's area. I…do not recall walking into it. But now that I am here…

"Would you mind if I sat?" I walk over to stand before her, where she is perched on the edge of her bed.

She is eating the bits of dried meat we gave her. "Sure. Is somethin' wrong?" She blinks sleepily as she invites me to sit beside her.

I drop down next to her, much closer than I should be. The entire line of the left side of my body is touching her right. Thighs, arms, shoulders…

She is watching me with pinched brows, looking more awake by the moment. I must have caught her just after she woke. She has been taking many naps in-between tasks to satisfy me and my need for her to rest. "You talked to the slaves for me."

Amazing how she always knows. Everything. She does not need much information to come to a conclusion. "Yes."

"Did they take the uh…are they resting?" She hesitates to ask if they took the 'order'- just as she hesitated to call it an 'order' when she gave it to me.

"Yes." I respond. "I…"

"What's the problem, then?" She asks, tilting her head at me. "Did they say something that upset you?"

"It is more uncomfortable to speak to them than I thought." I admit, a half-truth. "It is not their fault, what they are…why do I feel like this?" I never would have admitted to any of this in the past. Not to anyone in the Rebellion aside from…but she is gone.

"Well of course it feels awkward and bad." She replies with a small smile of amusement. "It's _slavery._ We feel awkward and weird and horrible about it because it's _wrong_. If you didn't feel that way, then I'd worry about you." The amusment fades as she stares into my eyes. "Sorry, was that wrong?"

"What? No." I respond, voice breathier than it should be. "How is it that it is so simple for you to see these things when I cannot?"

She snorts, her shoulders raising as her head bows- eyes shutting against the laughter she is holding in.

"What?" I want to feel affronted, but my eyes are caught up in the play of dark lashes on pale skin.

"Well, for one thing- you know that whole humility thing we were talking about before Haven was attacked?" She smiles and leans a bit of weight into the shoulder touching mine. "It's harder for you to perceive anything you see as a flaw, or to analyze anything in yourself you think could lead to realizing you _have_ some kind of flaw." She shrugs. The movement of her bare skin against the cloth of my tunic is almost too much. "Everyone has those issues, but they seem particularly difficult for you."

She is wearing a sleeveless dress. She does not normally prefer them, but she had few choices. And I knew persuading her into one would mean she would be less likely to go running about. She is more subdued in dresses, for some odd reason…

"But not you." I don't believe there was enough of a rise in the end of that sentence to qualify as a question.

"I'm fully aware at all times that I don't know everything." She responds. "I don't _have_ an ego, really."

I want to argue with her, but I can recall so many instances…

When someone complimented her cooking, ( _yeah the recipe I got is delicious. I added my own stuff and tweaked it, but I think it needs improvement._ )

When someone thanks her for closing the rifts in their area, ( _What else am I gonna do with this thing?_ ) Gesturing at her glowing hand.

And especially when the villagers' effusive praise becomes too much for her, ( _Really guys, it's nothing. I…I'm gonna go and do some paperwork, okay?_ )

"How do you do it?" I ask, a bit of frustration leaking into my tone. "How is it even _possible_? Why can't I…"

"Oh you don't wanna be like me!" She responds, surprised. Almost shocked by the idea that I could possibly think of such a thing. "Periods of activity like when I'm working are filled with absolute focus on what I'm doing and that's great- and I feel accomplished right after. But when I'm not, I'm filled with self-loathing and the occassional bout of hysterics." Her expression is strained. "It's _not_ fun to be me, okay? Don't try to be me. I don't know why you'd want to be like me at all."

I believe that is the moment I realize what the puzzle pieces have all been coming together to create. The picture of Nik in its entirety.

Selfless not because she is kind but because she perceives herself to be of less worth than others around her. Believes she was _made_ to help others.

That she is not bigoted not because she is kind either, but because all people are equally better than her to her own mind.

Her ability to read moods and maneuver around others in a way that is entirely beneficial to themselves and everyone else involved…

"Solas, what's wrong?" She furrows her brow and turns a bit to face me, tucking one leg under the other and leaning forward.

My heart slams in my chest, I cannot stop my body from moving to mirror hers- and my soul from reaching out to surround hers.

She blinks at the sudden move but her being accepts mine as if there was never any question whether she would or not.

' _She will never turn me away._ '

I have lost all reason in one moment- from one moment to the next, realizing so many things at once and seeing who is really underneath-

It is too easy to simply reach up and twine my fingers in her hair, watching the smile spread over her face- guileless as though the movement is _normal_ for me. When it is the most I have touched her in _weeks_.

And then I pull until her head is closer and our lips touch and my other hand cups the side of her throat- her jaw cupped in my palm.

' _Please. Push me away. I cannot…_ '

She does not. And so my mouth presses tight to hers, and our energies clash in an entirely _new_ way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't everybody scream at once.
> 
> ...
> 
> alright, go ahead.


	86. Chapter 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm double updating today so you guys don't murder me.

When he buried his hand in my hair, I thought ' _Oh, he needs contact_ ' because of course- I mean. He's barely _ever_ touched me. I kinda thought just leaning against him and nudging him with my arm was a bit much- but he's the one who sat so close to start with.

I thought ' _he wants comfort_ ' and I didn't act surprised or anything, even though I really _was_.

And then he pulled me close and I thought maybe, maybe he just wants to be close- even as my heart leapt up in my throat and he paused with his mouth brushing across mine.

And then he sighed with a deep, full-bodied shudder and he was really _kissing_ me. Not rough or gentle, there are no words for how he simply _sank_ into me.

Mouth melding with mine, hand in my hair as another cupped the side of my face- lips moving only enough to count as an open-mouthed kiss, but not enough to be called fervent or passionate or _desperate_ \- but those are the things I felt.

I felt desperation, not of the kind that I expected but something oddly reflective. Like he wanted something from me that he wasn't getting- and then it melted away as I kissed him back and was replaced with some _wanting_ that I couldn't understand even more than the desperation.

I had only half my attention on his emotions intertwining with mine- as euphoric as it was it couldn't really compare to the very _tactile_ sensation of his lips moving over mine, his head tilting to get just the right angle and his thumbs brushing my face-

He pulls away and we both draw breath in great gasps- and I have no idea how long it's been. A moment, a minute- I don't know how long we've been caught up in each other. God, I like that I don't know.

Everything is warm as his forehead settles against mine, our eyes caught on each other and my hands- ah. They're on his wrists where he's holding my face. I don't remember moving them there.

And then I see it, in his eyes. That moment of doubt and panic. He just did something incredibly stupid, is what he's thinking. He just did something self-serving and selfish-

Or so I thought. That's why I flooded him with all the soft, warm things I was feeling- not anything too strong. Admiration, affection, nothing so polarizing as _love_ or _passion_ or anything that I thought could make him want to run.

But instead the look in his eyes turned a little…self- _loathing_. And I knew. I knew he…was going to pull away. Possibly apologize- run.

So my lips pursed and I pulled away first, turning my body and standing up to pace to the other side of the tent. And I stared down at the corner of the tent, with my shoulders hunched.

"Nik?" There's strain in his voice and it _hurts_ and - fuck _him_ -

"I don't think we should talk about this now." I respond, monotone and struggling against a wave of self-loathing all my own.

"I believe we _should_ …" He's so quiet, I can almost believe I didn't see what I saw. He sound so _sad_ and _hurt_ that I can believe for a moment that I'm overreacting.

"I can't do this right now." I respond, hunching my shoulders up further and clenching my fists. "I need to sleep."

Silence while he gathers himself, or processes that, or _whatever_ \- and then I can hear him leave the tent.

I don't glance behind me to make sure for a very long time, but when I do- he's gone.

And that's when I lose my composure. Not loudly, but all at once. Face twisting up, eyes dripping with wet tears- body curling down into itself-

I curl up on the floor where I am and sob silently to myself until I can fall asleep. I am so easily exhausted lately, still recovering from the ordeal in Haven- guess it wasn't just the first excuse I could think of after all.

…

" _ **I can see you when you are awake, you need not tell me what happened.**_ " He's there again, standing beside me. " _ **But**_ **acknowledge** _ **me, love.**_ **Please** _ **.**_ "

" _ **I'm not your 'love' and I don't want to talk.**_ " I'm huddled in the corner of a dark, rainy cave. It fits my mood.

" _ **I don't believe you are the one who gets to determine who is anything to me.**_ " He responds easily, settling his shadowed form next to me and wrapping some of the flickering tendrils about my dream form. " _ **I could feel everything. You were not wrong- but you were not right, either.**_ "

" _ **You're gonna have to do better than that.**_ " I mutter at him. " _ **And I still don't know who the hell you are. You can't claim any familiarity with me unless I can claim the same amount- and I can't. Otherwise it's coercive.**_ " Sighing and leaning further into the cave wall, I revel in the almost-real sensation of cold stone against my cheek.

" _ **You know who I am.**_ " He says.

" _ **I know who you're trying to look and sound like.**_ " I respond with some annoyance. " _ **You aren't him.**_ "

" _ **Not all of him perhaps.**_ " He answers easily. " _ **But…where do you think all of that power and the will to maintain it came from? How do you think he could have done such a thing and left it in place to self-maintain without someone or some**_ **thing** _ **to keep maintenance over it?**_ "

I turn my head and frown at him. " _ **What are you talking about?**_ "

He sighs in frustration, " _ **You aren't ready to know or you would know already.**_ **Know** _ **me, love.**_ "

" _ **I'm not your 'love'.**_ " Is the last thing I say for the next few hours.

We sit in absolute silence, listening to the false rain outside my fake cave. His form subtly wrapping around mine, slowly over time until I'm enveloped in him. In darkness and something warm and fluttering against my skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not MY fault!!!


	87. Solas POV

" _ **I believe I've made a mistake,**_ " I breathe.

Wisdom sits in a windowseat, the memory of a book in its hands- holding it, feeling the weight of it in a way only spirits can. " _ **I can sense you panicking. Panic does not breed wisdom. Breathe with me, Pride.**_ "

Settling on my heels and leaning back against the memory of a wall…I breathe. Feeling the syncronization of a hundred heartbeats, a hundred lungfuls of air. Perfectly in time with my own as quick as they are- and then slowly…slowly…

My calm is with me again. But my confusion persists. " _ **She pulled away from me, she…**_ "

" _ **I can sense the hesitation in you. Something else…**_ " It hums. " _ **Ah. You were going to pull away first.**_ "

" _ **It was a foolish thing to do.**_ " I snap, not at it, but at myself. " _ **Her reaction was…confusing, but no less than I should have expected.**_ "

" _ **And why is that?**_ " It asks, tilting its head. " _ **I know you are unused to honest displays of emotion, Pride…but can you really deny it any longer?**_ "

" _ **I do not deny anything.**_ " I respond, sinking tiredly to the floor. " _ **It is a selfish desire.**_ "

" _ **Is it?**_ " It asks. " _ **Tell me. Did she respond the way you expected? At first?**_ "

I pause to ponder that as I glance around the memory of the _Vir Dirthara_. " _ **I expected hesitation, perhaps surprise. But no.**_ " My eyes clench closed. " _ **She welcomed me, as she**_ **always** _ **does.**_ "

" _ **Always. For you.**_ " It says. " _ **How does she welcome the touch of others? Not only those she considers friends and allies, but strangers?**_ "

I open my eyes and stare blankly at it. " _ **You expect me to recall all of it?**_ "

" _ **I shall help you, of course.**_ " It lifts the ghostly approximation of a hand and flicks its fingertips.

… … … …

The first memory is shaky. One of the _very_ first I have of her after she woke with her new scars.

Nik stumbles and a nearby servant grasps her arm to steady her. She flinches, not in pain but in surprise. She forces herself still and gives the servant a smile, thanking them for keeping her upright.

When the servant releases her, she grasps the area, as if it burns or aches. Bites her lip.

… … … …

After her sensitivity died down and she began work in earnest again- there was a moment when she brushed past me. Uncaring of the way our arms touched, though it surprised _me_.

And then when I glanced over my shoulder I could see her weaving through the crowded healing cabin. Not so much as mussing anyone else's clothing.

It seemed so odd at the time, but…not something that I noticed overly much.

… … … …

Dorian reaches out to grasp her hand, and she hangs on as she steps across the river stones- tightly but not a moment longer than necessary.

They stand close when they speak, smiling and laughing. They do not touch unless necessary. Dorian is still too wary to be more than polite, though her body leans toward his with trust and affection.

Her eyes turn backward to me where I have yet to cross.

A whim overcomes me. I freeze the stream in that spot as I cross- then let it thaw behind me. Walking past them both as I reach the other side.

A glance backward and she is kneeling by the stream- attempting to feel the temperature of the water. ( _The rocks aren't even cold anymore!_ ) She grins as she lifts her head. ( _Will you show_ _ **me**_ _how to do that?_ )

… … … …

She holds Josephine's hand absent-mindedly as they walk through Haven. Always so dazed after using magic through the mark, or sealing a rift. She must hold her hand to keep herself from getting lost, wandering off.

But they do not walk particularly close to one another. Josephine is smiling and open, Nik is dazed but amiable.

There is no need for them to touch beyond a hand on a shoulder or their hands clasped together. Even when informing family members about the deaths of our soldiers in the field- she barely reaches out to them unless they reach first.

I am in Josephine's office as she serves the family tea, watching from where I stood in this moment before. On the opposite end of the room, determined to stay but not quite understanding why.

Nik sits next to the woman and her child as they cling to each other, tears in their eyes. They can guess why they have been called. There are other families waiting outside who know the same. ( _Did…did he suffer at all?_ )

Nik is not a liar. ( _A few moments, maybe. But we made them hurt back._ ) Said so simply.

The child looks up at Nik with angry, red eyes. ( _Why did they hurt him?_ )

Nik tilts her head. ( _Because they couldn't hurt me._ )

It seemed a dangerous thing to say at the time. To tell a child something like that, to take responsibility as if it were your _fault-_ but in the end, I suppose it would seem to be.

She was the Herald and they were going to blame her for this regardless.

Telling them they were right was likely the only way to make them hesitate to blame her at all.

The woman reached out to Nik with faltering fingertips then, and Nik grasped her hand. She didn't move to do anything else and the woman sat with her in silence as she and her daughter processed their grief. Or at least, as they _began_ to.

… … … …

" _ **Do you see now?**_ " Wisdom asks as I come out of the memories. " _ **Are you still blinding yourself,**_ _Da'len?_ "

" _ **No.**_ " I respond, titling my head away. " _ **But it…changes nothing. It is still selfish. And ill-advised.**_ "

" _ **You are the first wish she has ever made, it seems.**_ " Wisdom peers at me with a directness that cows me. " _ **It is foolish to deny her something that you both want. She reacts to your fear, your indecision. Decide. If you decide no, then distance yourself. If you decide yes, fully commit to it.**_ " Its eyes glow as it glances upwards. " _ **You know things are different than when you first awoke.**_ "

" _ **It is only the mark…that makes it possible.**_ " I pause and clench my fists in my lap.

" _ **You know that is not true.**_ " Wisdom is now pacing before me, agitated. " _ **You are denying truth. That is unwise.**_ "

I am upsetting it. I open and close my mouth, sighing deeply. " _ **She would have asked.**_ " How could I have been so _blind_? " _ **She wields it naturally because it is natural for her.**_ " Her soul reaching out to mine is as easy and instinctive as I ever would have expected it to be.

Wisdom sighs in relief at the pressure releasing. I shouldn't have come to it with such a complex issue. I was not thinking clearly.

" _ **I always welcome the chance to help you, my friend.**_ " It tells me. " _ **It is only when you lie to yourself that you put me in any danger.**_ "

I bow my head and feel its spectral fingertips touch the top of my head, a soft caress. " _ **I…will decide.**_ "

" _ **Decide and commit.**_ " It responds, the words echoing as I reach the peak of consciousness.


	88. Dorian POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd intended for the words in (parenthesis) to represent the memory of someone speaking, but some of the chapters I fucked up and made it look like thoughts in 'these' instead. That'll be hell to fix once I finish and go through to edit everything.
> 
>  
> 
> It might be another week or two before I get another kick for an influx but for now, enjoy these singular chapter updates, I guess?

I had what was the most perplexing conversation I have ever had in my life this morning.

Solas came to my tent early this morning and refused to respond to my teasing. I was half-dressed and still washing off, but he didn't even notice. I didn't expect him to, but I at least expected some sputtering or a glare or a quip… No, in fact he was the most serious I had ever seen him.

I was confused by his line of questioning- what did I want with the Herald, what were my intentions?

( _Can't the two of you just stop dancing around each other already? Stop talking to_ _ **me**_ _and go speak with_ _ **her**_ _._ ) I'd told him, ready to pull out my own hair. ( _I'm tired of waiting for you to get the many hints she gives you!_ ) If he'd been any other man, I daresay I would have been more delicate.

The shock on his face was a delightful change of pace. As was the suspicion when he asked, dear god- ( _Are you not pursuing her?_ )

I had laughed at him. Out loud, for a moment longer than was perhaps wise.

He looked more puzzled than angry when I could pry my teary eyes open, though. ( _ **You**_ _are more my type than_ _ **she**_ _is._ ) I put emphasis on that. Whatever backlash I could find from him would be nothing compared to how his _jealousy_ made him treat me, I'm certain.

There was shock, and then immediately, relief. And of course then, he turned pink up to his ears and apologized to me for 'the assumption'.

( _Thank you for informing…me._ ) He paused and chewed his lip, in an endearingly similar way to how Nik always seems to when she struggles for words. And then he'd asked, ( _would you do me a favor? If ultimately it came to…what you just…insisted I do?_ )

" _Amicus!_ I have a few questions for you." I walk into the tent she seems to have sequestered herself in since yesterday and frown at the state of her living area.

Papers crinkled and tossed all over the place, her sitting in their midst- scribbling angrily on another when I walk in. "Dorian?" She blinks and her expression goes slack for a moment, as if shifting from anger to something else _manually_. "Oh. What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing, don't get up!" I walk over to settle before her on the floor of the tent, internally cursing Solas's stupidity as I do so. He told me what happened, but he seems to have underplayed her reaction. Or perhaps she's simply a better actress than I thought. "What is all this, though? Before we get into…anything else."

"Oh I'm just writing down my thoughts so I can deal with them and let them go." She responds, flicking her wrist and setting the wadded up papers alight- then dousing them just as quickly. "But it's hard when you're not really sure _what_ you're feeling, so taking some time to think about something else should be helpful."

She sets her things aside and gives me her full attention, smiling brightly.

"I was wondering about the culture where you're from." I tell her with a smile. "Is it more similar to Orlais, Tevinter or Ferelden?"

She tilts her head and looks confused. "It's not really like any of them. It would be more like the Free Marches if it were similar to anyplace here. People in independent states that made up one whole country."

"No no, I mean…" How to approach this casually? "What was it like, between the people? Friends, families, lovers? What were the most common similarities you've seen in Ferelden and Orlais and the other cultures you've studied?"

She blinks, "interpersonally? Uh…well, shaking hands is a thing for greeting people you've just met. Hugging for people you know." She shrugs. "There's not a lot that's different, really…"

"Hm." I take off the pack on my back, pulling out the two mugs and one of the bottles of wine I'd brought for this purpose. "Drink with me?"

"I don't think I should…" She glances down at her hand.

"I believe I've seen you drunk, or at the very least tipsy- once before. The mark didn't react in any noticeable way then, did it?" I pour the mugs and hold hers out toward her. "You need to relax, _Amicus_. Unwind and stop _thinking_ quite so much." This will make the conversation _much_ easier. Less dancing around the subject when you can simply _ask_.

She stares at the mug before reaching out to take it. "I guess since everyone keeps bugging me to _rest_ and _unwind_ all the time, this should satisfy you." She gives me an arch look as she sips from the mug. Her eyes widen. "This is…fruity!"

I laugh and take a hearty swig of my own. "It is Antivan! They do love their fruity wines."

I watch as she begins to slurp at the wine and smack her lips. I'm going to have to watch her intake _for_ her, then. Well, this is going swimmingly!

… … … …

It doesn't take long to get her completely intoxicated, really. It takes less time than I thought, more than last time but less than I would have guessed. I am slightly tipsy myself, but I've put the wine away now, in favor of our conversation.

It _is_ much easier to talk now.

"How would a man court you, _Amicus?_ What were the rituals where you are from? Would you demand an orchard, or perhaps a dance hall?" I tease her with the last, as we both know it is a ridiculous assumption to make. A dance hall has no function beyond entertaining nobility and she _hates_ entertaining nobility.

"Wha- oh, you mean dating!" She giggles brightly. "Usually they just _ask_. You want to be my girlfriend or boyfriend, or whatever genner-neutal term…" She stumbles over her words a bit there at the end. "Gender _neutral_ term…you want." She grins in triumph.

I chuckle, "but what would they do? Once you'd established that you were interested in each other?" I will assume that a kiss counts- regardless of the horrid way it ended.

"I dunno…I mean I know the theory, but it never happened to me." She snorts. "They tried like…twice in my life. I was too scary all the other times." She whispers the last part and then a blank expression settles on her face, it looks vaguely irritated. "I looked like this until I learned to look like this."

Her blankness looks vaguely pleasant now, almost smiling.

"I see. But what _is_ the theory?" I prod her a bit, she gets off-track too easily.

"Oh, right." She weaves a bit in place, giggling. "Usually they go places. Show each other things they like. Buy things for each other on holidays… talk about their dreams and aspirations…normal shit." She snorts at the end, adding: "and if you're not like me, you know, like…what was it called? Allosexual?" She purses her lips. "If you can be attracted to someone without loving them- you'd start out by sitting on a cou…on a Chaise and making out."

"What about someone who _is_ like you?" I didn't understand most of that.

"Oh, well…" She turns pinker than the alcohol can be responsible for. "Once I've gotten to the point where I can feel any attraction at all…I'm already in love." She says with some embarrassment. "So they wouldn't have to do anything, except to say they like me. Or show me they do." There is some bitterness as a shadow crosses her expression.

And then I do something I swore to myself I would never do. I suppose the way she seemed to _need_ him so badly and the way he gravitates around her like she's the center of his universe, convinced me.

I attempt to talk her around in order to help _Solas_. Ugh. "You know, from what I've heard- Elves are more ceremonial about these things than humans. Isn't that fascinating?"

Her expression becomes more puzzled but also somewhat suspicious. "Huh? What do you mean, _cer'mon'yal?_ "

"Well, just the other day I was discussing it with Solas." I was attempting to prod him for information about how his people would view romance- intending to prod Nik later to do as he told me- but he talked mainly about the Dalish and not quite nicely. "The Dalish apparently are simple in what they do, but they must prove to each other that they can fulfill their respective roles. As a parent, as a hunter, as a protector- what have you." I flick my wrist. "He said something quite nebulous about the Ancient elves- how their courtships could go on for _centuries-_ I don't know if that's how he measures against modern conventions…but he seemed to think it was the way it should be."

She rolls her eyes, surprisingly enough. "Yeah. Solas does as the ancients did. For almost everything."

"Mh. Courtships that lasted centuries." I muse, giving her a glance. "So our relationships would seem to move a bit _too_ quickly by comparison, whether he'd ever experienced such a thing or not. If he thinks that is simply how it is done." Ridiculous, but entirely possible.

She pauses, and her fingertips tap her knee as she frowns. "Yeah, probably."

"So if he attempted to pursue anyone, he would likely have no idea how." I laugh gamely. "I'm certain he'd be quite clumsy about it. Has he attempted anything with you? I'd imagine it would be entirely too obvious if he were to-"

"It doesn't count if he wants it not to." She says glumly- staring at the glasses of wine off to the right of us. "I knew he'd pull back. He's just…he doesn't really want to."

"Pull back?" I ask, wondering what on earth she's talking about. From what Solas tells me, _she_ pulled back. Though he implied it was in response to his emotional climate-

It was very odd to be reached out to with another man's soul _platonically_. Didn't even have the courtesy to be looking at me when he did it!

"He kissed me." She flicks her wrist as if it is of no consequence. "But I could see after- I could see in his _eyes_ …he was gonna run away…and it pissed me off." She dips her head and clenches her fingers together in her lap. "I knew it was coming, cause that's who he is- he can't let himself have things." Her lips tremble as she presses them together. "But I…"

"Well how do you _know_ for certain?" I ask. "Putting aside this whole conversation about cultures and what might be expected- Solas has been alone for a very long time, yes? He is not prone to emotional displays either…"

"So what?" She asks with a tired sigh.

"So any display of emotion whatsoever is going to be confusing and frustrating for him, isn't it?" I ask a bit leadingly. "I wouldn't normally advocate for patience or forgiveness but he seems mopey this morning. If that's because of what happened- well. I'll just assume he regrets whatever look it is that you reacted to and say…perhaps if you take it a bit _slower_."

She frowns. "But _he_ kissed _me_."

"Yes, and then he panicked." I respond easily. "I believe you're going to have to be the one to pursue, here. If you want this to happen at all."

She glances away from me. "I want him to want me."

"But he _does_." I say with frustration. "That's _why_ he kissed you in the first place!"

She blinks. "I…guess so?" She seems so confused it is both irritating and adorable. "But he'll just pull back again."

I take a gamble then, with something I've noticed. "He panicked because he was the initiant, I think. But has he ever denied you something _you_ asked for? Anything _you_ wanted? You ask for things so rarely and he leaps to give them to you." I take a deep breath and take the plunge. "I believe he felt he was taking advantage of you. For whatever stupid reason. But if it is something _you_ want from him, then he must allow himself to indulge for _your_ sake, musn't he?"

She pauses to ponder that. "That seems like it's how it worked…" She mutters to herself. "She kept chasing and he kept giving in."

"What?" I ask with some confusion.

She blinks and shakes her head. "Nothing. I just…how do I do this?" Her expression crumples. "I don't know anything about this!"

"Well…we _do_ know where he gets most of his own information from, don't we?" She's been delving into the Fade with some regularity, though she won't tell me what she sees there. She did hint at seeing a memory or two here and there- though she hesitated to share what they were about.

She has a realization, and then she smacks herself in the forehead. "I need to sleep for a while. Can you keep everyone off my back for the rest of the day and tonight?"

"I will handle all the things you wanted to get done, yes." I had almost nothing to do, anyway. The nightingale and Josephine are entirely too efficient. "Though Solas informs me he may have a lead on where to take our refugees for safety. Says he is looking into an old fortress in the mountains somewhere."

She scoffs, "that's gonna be fun to find with an entire hoard of civilians traveling with us." Though there is a funny little smirk on her face…


	89. Chapter 89

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry I haven't updated-- I was sick AND my internet was down. It's up for the moment so I'm updating before it goes out again.

It's not like I've figured it all out, or like I know absolutely what I'm going to do now…but I'm more hopeful than I was yesterday. And considering I felt like absolute _trash_ yesterday, that's not really saying much- but _this_ feels pretty great compared to that.

"Solas." I walk into his tent without announcing myself- because that's what he does to me.

He glances up from the desk in the corner where he's painstakingly doodling out a rough map of the area. "Herald." Spoken quietly, like he's afraid of startling me.

I walk over and hold out the mug of steaming hot chocolate in my hand. "I found some of the cocoa and one of the Druffalos is still good for milking-" stress has made some of them reluctant to be milked so we have to coax them into any touching whatsoever "-so I made you some hot chocolate."

He's narrowing his eyes at me, "thank you." He obviously senses there's something else. No point in putting it off…

Besides to run and hide, and I can't do that. Can I? No.

"And now I think we should talk," I say as he reaches out and takes the mug from me.

There's something of fear that races across his face, but it's gone so fast I might think I imagined it. "I see."

I lean against the side of his desk that doesn't have map lying over the side of it, making sure not to hold on anywhere I might smear ink. "I know you're making the map, but you've been at it for hours, and I thought you could use a break. I can come back-"

"No. I'm nearly finished and…" He pushes back in his seat a little, cupping his hands around the mug and inhaling the steam. "We _should_ speak."

"Okay…" I pause at that and sigh. "I have no idea what to say."

A chuckle and he leans over, elbows on his knees as he stares into the mug like he's divining the future from it. "Why don't we start with…something I have been wondering?" Then he glances up, eyes direct and piercing as ever.

And I look away, trying to ignore the heat under my skin. "About?"

"Do you think you only exist to serve other people?" He asks.

And completely blows my mind. Because I have no idea what to say to that.

He nods his head with a quirk to the edge of his mouth, "it took me quite a while to figure that out, but I see I am correct."

"I don't…" I flail about for a response, pushing away from the desk and pause facing the side of the tent.

I can hear him move and there's a small _thunka_ noise as he sets the mug down on the desk. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset. I'm…" I flail my hands in the air a little. "A little flabbergasted."

"I'm not familiar with that term," he says patiently.

"Astonished, Bewildered, Dismayed." I list off some similar words as I stare blankly at the tent wall. "To overwhelm with shock, surprise or wonder…"

"Nik." He says, just to stop me before I get into the etymology, I think. I probably could. Damn, my hobbies were _weird_.

"I…uh…I dunno what you want me to say." I can feel the urge to cross my arms, but I know that's usually 'shielding' behavior- I don't want to close myself off. Doing so physically can affect your mentality.

"No one has ever noticed this about you?" He asks.

When I look, he seems skeptical. I snort a little. "I usually have to explain that, so…no." Every single time I've had to explain why I do the things I do, why I usually neglect self-care in favor of helping someone else with _theirs_ … "I could tell you _why_ , if that's what you want."

"It would be welcome, yes." He responds, standing next to me now- not staring directly _at_ me, thank god. Seems he's learning.

"I grew up Christian." I respond, then huff a laugh. "It's like being Andrastian…but the values are…a little different. And one of them was…to serve the people around you. Like…to be a humanitarian, to never put yourself above someone else…"

"That sounds like an objectively positive thing, but your tone says the practice is otherwise." He replies astutely.

I laugh again, more bitterly this time. "Hammering the idea that anything a child will do for themselves or to enjoy life is secular and therefore a sin…can really fuck you up," I say. "Especially when you're artistic…" Shit. Whatever, moving on. "Because then you're fascinated with stories and images that the church doesn't like. Demonic imagery that's used as a metaphor for the human condition, you know- that kinda thing."

"I see," quiet voiced. Eyes narrowed. He's watching me like he expects me to do something, but I'm not sure what. "And…you feel nothing about that?"

He's taking issue with my lack of expression or tone in my voice. Probably confusing to hear such bitter words in such a matter-of-fact way.

I snort and lean back into the desk, making sure not to hit the mug or anything. I turn my head to look him in the eye, I can stand it for a minute, I think. "It's a simple statement of fact to me now. It upsets me to think about it, but there's not much I can do. All I can really think is: I need to move forward without looking back. I can't unlearn all the attitudes I learned- I mean, I learned self-care and how to indulge in small pleasures…but I can't unlearn how to be selfless. I wouldn't want to, honestly."

"I suppose my constant nagging is useless then. A pity." He sidles closer, but just leans on the side of the desk with me. Not really putting any weight on it, not close enough to touch… "I was hoping you were beginning to learn how to avoid killing yourself every ten minutes."

A genuine laugh this time as my head dips. "You've gotten closer to making me think twice than anyone else ever has…but yeah. S'prolly not gonna happen."

"I am asking because I wanted to be certain…" He's looking down when I glance up, staring at the space between us with a crinkle in his brow. Then his eyes flick up to meet mine and I can't look away. "That you did not simply allow me to…" His face is turning pink. "You seemed upset afterwards, but you did not push me away."

"I was upset because I could feel the self-loathing rolling off of you." I respond a bit snappishly. "I like you, but I'm not going to be with someone _in spite of_ the fact that my humanity apparently disgusts them." That was something I didn't even figure out was bothering me until after waking up from my nap after speaking to Dorian.

"I- _what_?" He looks shocked when I glance up, but I can't hold his gaze. I stare at the tent wall again, turning my body to face it completely. "I am _not_ \- you do _not_ -"

"Then why do you hate yourself for being attracted to me?" I ask, quiet and serious.

There's a pause and then he's leaning back next to me, close enough our shoulders brush. Like before on the cot. The reminder is enough to make my heart thump and constrict all at once. "Because it is a selfish desire."

"Well duh." I respond, frowning at the tent wall. "Any desire is selfish. Desire for safety, desire for companionship, desire for power. It's all selfish. Desire by itself isn't inherently evil, but it does only concern what that one person wants. Desire has to be tempered by something else. And I thought…" I turn my head the other direction. "I kinda thought it was tempered with respect? Affection? Like…you actually _liked_ me. But I kinda doubt that anymore."

He's turned to face me, chest brushing my shoulder as his hand reaches up to touch my cheek. Backs of his fingers drifting backward to tuck some hair behind my ear. "Why?"

"Because if it was, you'd know I need it as much as you do. Therefore it wouldn't be selfish." I say, easily. "But you still think it is, so-"

"I don't want to distract you from your duties as the Herald." He says, low and soft. Fingertips dropping to my shoulder and drawing small designs, a flicker of magic following the movements. "Nor be distracted from mine…"

Ignoring that knife in the heart- ( _I've distracted you from your duties, it won't happen again_ ).

"We do what we _are_ , Solas." I move so I can step around him and pause halfway to the entrance to the tent. "I can't speak for you, but I don't _get_ distracted. I'm always aware of what I should be doing." I mean sure, there are moments when you forget in the rush of something-but that's only a moment.

"As am I. But it is…a concern." He says.

"You mean you're being paranoid." I respond, blinking at the entrance and sighing. "Fine. Take all the time you need to figure yourself out. I'll be busy trying to lead the Inquisition to that fortress for _days_ , anyway. Might as well take the opportunity to think, right?"

"You are upset with me." He says, softly as ever.

"I don't know where I stand with you," I correct him. "I _always_ know that much, at _least_ with people. I'd like to have a benchmark."

"A benchmark?" He's standing right behind me, I can feel the warmth.

' _Damn silent ninja-elf._ '

"What I can and can't do. But we come from two different cultures- and yours is thousands of years old or whatever…so I can't just look shit up or ask other people from that time." Huffing and shifting, I finally give in to the urge to cross my arms. "I even tried looking for memories, but it was _not_ a fruitful endeavor-"

In fact, I found jack shit and my pretend-wolf-spirit bugged me all night. Insisting he could tell me anything I wanted to know. But I have no idea how to talk to demons and spirits aside from what Solas has told me and this is the first time it's offered… _anything_.

There are arms wrapped around my waist and his forehead presses tight against my temple. "I would answer your questions if you would ask them."

"I wouldn't know what questions to ask, and you wouldn't know how to answer the ones I came up with." I respond. Then I slip into Elvhen, because the poetic language allows more emotional explanations than English/Common does. " _You are the only person I have ever wanted this much for this long and I am…afraid of you._ "

His arms tighten up as he buries his face in my hair. " _I would not hurt you if I knew for certain the outcome. I am uncertain this is wise, but I…_ _ **want**_ _it to be._ "

Tentatively, I reach back with my soul. My emotional climate wrapped up in serenity and quiet solidity when he reaches back in answer. " _I don't know how to do anything for you._ " I say with some chagrin. " _My people are easy, but I have a feeling you've taken cues from the ancient_ Elvhen _lifestyle…and I know nothing about how-_ "

" _I am not so much more complex than you,_ " there's amusement in his voice, muffled as it is by my hair. " _You seem to grasp precisely how_ _ **I**_ _feel more often than not, and yet you leave me without comprehension about_ _ **you**_ _._ "

" _That is only because you refuse to tell yourself unpleasant truths and you also do not allow yourself to have pleasant thoughts._ " I respond. " _Those are two of the hardest things I ever had to learn. You never had anyone to support you through that, though, I think. Maybe someone was there, but they wouldn't have known what you needed._ "

There's a very telling silence as he seems to tighten his hold on me unconsciously. Not enough to leave bruises, but there's a slight burn to tell me it's a little too tight. I don't care, really. It feels good to be wrapped up like this. I've never been held this way in my whole life.

He sighs, " _how do you always manage to do that?_ "

I lean back into his grip a little and feel vindicated at the small flash of warm satisfaction in his emotional climate. " _I pay extra close attention to everyone, but I see you…more._ " I am at a loss for words- especially for any in Elvhen. I can't even begin to put it into words in _common_. " _I don't have the words…_ "

" _I understand._ " He mutters, moving to drift his lips over the column of my throat. " _I see you, as well. I simply cannot decipher most that is there. I suspect you will need to help me with that._ "

I'm shivering pretty hard, the small touch almost too much. I'm already overstimulated.

The smug satisfaction that drifts over to me from his climate makes me pout and then he's laughing against my skin, which does _not_ make the shivering better.

"Shut up your smirky face." Because I just know it's there, that smirk!

" _Ma Nuvenin._ " He responds, moving only enough to turn my head toward him and kiss me once on the edge of my mouth. "Does this bother you?" He asks as he pulls back, replacing his grip around my waist.

"No," I say while looking down and trying not to turn bright red. "But I don't know where the lines are, we still…haven't talked about the lines."

"I believe this is fine." He releases me enough to walk around in front of me, hands curling around my hips. "I do not mind this, either."

My hands twitch, where they're crossed over my chest. "And the…" I tap a finger to the edge of my mouth.

He takes this as invitation to lean down and kiss me _again_. Which I'm not complaining about, but I'm trying to _focus_ and be _serious_ , here. "I believe this much should be fine as well." He's talking against my mouth, now. The very edge, lips only barely brushing my skin.

"You're _evil,_ " I mutter. Oh, that brushes our lips against each other- no talking. Yes talking? I dunno what I want anymore.

A chuckle and another kiss pressed to-oh. My scar. "You've no idea," he says- something heavy in his tone.

"Solas-" The tent flaps open and suddenly I'm standing alone, with Solas on the other end of the tent, looking spooked.

' _Did you seriously just use fade-step to avoid awkwardness?_ ' Why is that so funny?

Leliana stands there blinking and frowning, like she saw him move but just can't convince herself that it happened. She turns her head to see me standing there and tilts her head. "Herald, you're here. Good. We should begin planning our move to the fortress."

"Give us a few minutes, I think the ink's still drying on the map." I answer easily.

Solas looks like he's been hunted into a corner, god that's cute- why is that cute?

"We will be in the command tent." Leliana steps back outside, tent flaps falling back into place.

And the moment is gone…

_Sigh_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you guys feel about this chapter? I wonder if it's too fast, not fast enough-- can't put my finger on it.


	90. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Computer was finally able to connect to the internet today so here you go, guys!

"Okay…" Nik breathes with some surprise as we are converged upon by Avvar.

A barrier went up as soon as the threat was perceived. All the Justicars-in-training and the other combat mages left in Haven during the attack did not even need an order.

They stop outside the barrier, the warriors in fur with their faces and chests covered in paint. Not far from it, but far enough that I gather they are not here to attack us. At least not without some kind of attempt to speak with us first, it seems.

I drift closer to the Herald, anxious to be within touching distance- or barrier distance at the least. This hammering in my chest is discomfiting. I do not care for it.

"Hail?" She calls out unsurely. "Something you need?"

A particularly tall, broad-shouldered Avvar steps into the open from behind some of the others. They are clustered before us- rather than all around us, as it first seemed. He is holding a rather large staff with teeth threaded and wrapped around it, and…I believe that is a Nug's horn atop it?

He pauses before the barrier and tilts his head as Nik steps forward to meet him.

I keep pace one step back and to her right side. I will not undermine her, but I will not let her isolate herself with a possible enemy, either.

"You are the one they call…Herald of Andraste." He speaks with a careful diction. "The gods have spoken of you."

"Spirits talk about me?" She asks incredulously. "I didn't think I was that interesting."

I cannot help the small laugh that escapes me.

She sends me a look, lips turning out in a pout. "I'm not!"

"The gods take interest regardless of mortal assessment." The Avvarian mage speaks with conviction. "They have told me you intend to take the cursed fortress for your own. I must warn you that it is dangerous."

It is interesting to watch her expression shift from confusion, to suspicion, then to understanding. "The fortress we're looking for is cursed?" Her eyes glitter with interest. "How so?"

"The mountain is angry, it drops rocks on them." Cole walks up on Nik's other side, speaking with a dreamy rhythm to his voice. "I didn't know mountains could be angry."

A reaching essence breaches the barrier, as it is not built to keep out souls- and Nik reacts to step in front of Cole even as a barrier flickers around the three of us- one that _is_ built to keep out souls. I doubt anyone of this time would know how to make one aside from Nik and myself. Perhaps other ancients that may have survived somehow…but not these rebel mages who stand behind us.

She is bristling and the mark flares. "What the hell are you doing?" She snaps lowly.

The Avvar mage retracts the essence. "You have a Hold Beast."

"Yeah and he doesn't fuckin' like that." She snaps again, Cole still and silent behind her. He does look a great deal paler than before. "Maybe ask for permission before assaulting people with your soul?"

Cole reaches up to grasp her shoulder, "it is how they talk to the spirits and demons they are friends with."

"You're not one of their friends. They should know better than to just assume you'd be okay with it." She is huffy, but no longer enraged.

"No god has ever turned away our touch before." The mage responds- their mages are called 'Augurs' as I recall. "He has taken the shape of a man."

"He _is_ a man." She replies, narrowing her eyes. "Whether he's _also_ a spirit or not, he is a man. It was his choice."

"Herald," I speak quietly as the Avvar stares her down. "I don't believe he meant offense." Cole is unique in many ways. This is one of them. The only reason we know he _has_ this aversion is because I attempted to connect to him once before as well.

She glances aside at me, not relaxing but listening. "Whatever," she mutters and rolls her shoulders. "We can't just… _not_ go there. I have a lot of people here, and no place to put them that's safe."

"If you go to the cursed fortress, I go with you." The Augur asserts. "And your people will be welcome among mine."

Surprise on her face as she tilts her head. "You…why would you do that?"

"The gods don't speak _fondly_ of many." He responds. "I would see what they see."

It isn't much of a surprise, though I do feel a slight shock at the thought that the spirits may know more of her _legend_ than her _reality_ and yet still apparently…

"Alright." She shrugs.

Leliana steps up next to her, looking suspicious. "How do we know they won't attack us?" Posture mostly relaxed, but there is tension in her hips and shoulders that says she is ready to pounce on the first aggressor to so much as twitch in her direction.

"We've got more people, more mages." She responds, narrowing her eyes at the Augur. "It'd be incredibly self-destructive to attack us. We'll have people on watch, wherever they put you guys, anyway."

The Augur nods his head, slowly. "You and I will go to the fortress, alone."

"No." I respond, without thinking. "The Herald has no magical or physical protections, she is not a fighter nor…a mage. Though she does wield magic on occassion."

"My Augur doesn't let me go anywhere without him." She tells the Avvar, to my surprise. She knows the term, and even more- does she know what it means? "And my Hold Beast would probably follow us wherever we go invisibly anyway."

Cole nods in response to that.

The Augur lifts his chin in acquiescence. "Only your Augur and Hold Beast, then. We leave after your people are bedded down with mine."

She reaches out and taps the barrier- and I watch as it falls with a shimmer. The Justicars know the touch of her hand better than I would have thought. "Alright."

And then she turns to lean in close and my breath catches as she speaks low next to my ear…"You're hovering…" And then she is walking toward the Augur with a bright smile. "So! Where do we go?"


	91. Chapter 91

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I left you guys too long without updates before due to my internet being out for so long-- so have another update to make up for the difference!

The Nuggalopes are like nugs crossed with rhinos, they're so _cool_. With special paints and carved horns and everything, they're all… _customized_.

I spooked most of their mounts and the few horses we had in Haven are being used to pull carts and junk. So I had to walk through their stable area until I could find something that didn't flinch away from me. I had to ride the most disciplined horses we had in Haven to start with- and even they sometimes flinch away from me.

Stupid mark. Animals used to love me, damn it. I would ride horses at home all the time when I was younger. Well, when I visited my dad, anyway.

The only horse that would let me anywhere near was named Song-hoof and seemed to like me a LOT. So I hopped up on him, thanking whatever deities there might be that at least one animal didn't hate me.

When I rode him out onto the path-there was an odd silence filled with wide-eyed stares from the Avvar.

I didn't know what to think.

"You are aware you are riding a spirit-vessel, are you not?" Solas asks. And suddenly their reactions make a sort of sense.

I blink for a moment and give him a sideways glance, "like a Hold Beast or just a posessed corpse or what?"

He huffs and then chuckles, "I expect that it is sacred. Though whether it is their Hold Beast or not…I cannot say."

The Augur is riding ahead of us, he and Cole speaking, both of them on nuggalopes. Though Cole is riding what's called a 'war nug'.

Solas is riding a horse too, though it keeps trying to shy away from me and mine.

"With my luck, I've just screwed us all over." I huff.

"Your luck tends to be better than most others, so I wonder that you think so." He responds, tilting his head and gazing at me with confusion. "It would seem it is a good thing that it is allowing you to ride it. They would have attacked or otherwise attempted to pull you off of it otherwise. Or do you think the Augur is taking us to our doom, regardless?"

"My luck is better than most?" I ask with some confusion. I mean sure, coming to Thedas was a _huge_ stroke of luck. Coming here without any complications, knowing what's happening and how to fix everything that I feel was wrong…but otherwise…. "I get knocked unconscious like, every time I do magic. You even tell me now, that it's ripping me apart a little every time I do it-"

"That is not luck, that is…something else." He cuts me off, looking sick. "It is…yes. That is why I believe you should stop attempting to learn to use it."

"Please, not this argument again." I sigh and slump in my saddle. "I like knowing I could protect myself in a bad situation. I can't fight, though I'm training in different disciplines- this is all I've got for now. Until I can-"

"I am aware of your stance on the matter." He cuts me off again, more snappishly this time. "As you are aware of mine. I only meant to remind you of that fact, not to bring up the argument again." He inhales and exhales a calming breath, then turns his head to look at me with that pained look in his eyes. "You cannot expect me to be cheerful about the fact that you are very literally risking your life for nothing. You have protectors, you do not need the power in the Anchor."

"Maybe, maybe not." I respond, shrugging. "I like to have all options open to me, and you know that."

His head turns away and then he glances back, "you cannot make me care and then decide it does not matter."

I don't really have a response for that. We just stare at each other for a long few moments. Him looking grim and focused and me…I'm not sure what expression I've got on my face, but I'm confused as hell.

"The fortress is there!" The Augur calls back to us.

Cole has already disappeared from his horse.

"Cole! Don't go anywhere without us, we'll have no way to find you!" I remind him.

He appears in our midst, blinking up at me innocently. "I haven't gone anywhere."

"Just try and stay visible for now, okay?" I'm usually fine with Cole disappearing whenever he wants, but for now…it's just me and Solas here. I'm useless to do anything to protect him and Solas is just one mage. The Augur, I dunno what his allegiances are, or if he'd protect Cole or not.

This makes me more nervous than anything has since I've been in Thedas.

" **I** can protect me, you don't have to." Cole says with all seriousness. "He would not hurt someone like me." He says then, turning to look at the Augur.

The Augur inclines his head. "A mortal who deigns to attack an uncorrupted god…I shudder to consider their soul."

"Happens a lot in Ferelden. Though…" I grimace. "They usually corrupt pretty easily there, because of all the pain and the oppression and shit."

"There it is." Solas is ahead of us, somehow he managed to dismount and walk off toward the fortress without me noticing. "Skyhold." He's standing at the top of a small ridge, staff in hand. He glances over his shoulder at me, actually smiling. "Shall we investigate?"

This is that side of him that we never got to see in-game, except for those few moments in the Fade when he was awed. This is the fun, adventurous Solas who can't wait to discover something new. After all, Skyhold is an Avvar hold, right? Built by humans long after Solas put up the Veil and went into Uthenera, right?

He looks a _lot_ younger when he smiles like that.

I dismount off of Song-hoof, giving him a few scritches around the jaw as I walk past him, keeping my shoes away from the deeper pits of snow- and then minding my steps to walk up behind Solas without slipping or dislodging any rocks.

He reaches out a hand and I don't hesitate to take it as he helps me up the last few feet.

My breath is kind of knocked out of me when I see the Fortress. So different from Skyhold in-game, so much bigger, so much _more_.

There are towers, to begin with. Not just the ones we see in game along the fortress walls- but three separate fortresses on nearby leveled peaks- connected to the main fortress with some kind of rope ladder system that's long since frayed and snapped. The ropes are flapping in the breeze.

" _Terasyl'an Te'las,_ " Solas breathes. "The place where the sky was held back."

"This is where the Veil was made, then." I say, almost grinning when his head turns and his eyes widen. "Or the place where they _think_ it was made, at least."

There's relief in the way he turns away and laughs nervously. Relief and something else. "Perhaps."

I lean over a little into his side, smiling when he looks at me like a deer caught in the headlights. I don't give a shit if the Augur or Cole sees me getting close, but he seems really leery of public displays of affection. Makes sense from several angles, really. "Are curses actually a thing?" I ask in a quiet voice.

He looks ahead and shifts a little bit. Not away from me, but apparently just trying to control his urge to. "They are. But I think perhaps this amount of destruction he's described…there may be spirits inside who are unhappy, that have been twisted by the Breach…it could be anything."

I think I've made him uncomfortable enough, he's blushing and everything. So I lean away and smile again when his eyes dart to me. "Let's figure it out."


	92. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me and my grandma are still figuring out how to get into our new home-- did I tell you guys about that?
> 
> Here's an update for you guys!
> 
> This story has been such a journey for me. Not only learning new techniques for writing characters and memories and descriptions but also to help me discover things about myself and other people around me. Figuring out how people work is a really big thing to me and you've all helped out at one time or another with your insights and encouragements.
> 
> Thank you!

There was something of a malevolent aura hanging about the fortress when we walked up to it.

It was heavy, oppressive…saddening. To see the area where I'd cast the Veil so…mired in misery. In anger, even.

We stood upon the plain just before the drawbridge as Nik examined the magical signature with the Mark. As it is not actually a spell, I felt no need to argue against it- and she did not pause to get my opinion regardless.

It still stings a bit, the way she dismisses my caution. Even knowing she does not do so out of malice…knowing where it comes from…knowing she believes she exists only to serve those around her…that alone is enough to unsettle me.

She would gladly step in front of a blade for a stranger, and it worries me. She has no idea of how important she is to the Inquisition, to us…to me.

She chooses to serve others because it keeps her up, moving. Because it feels right and makes sense to her. From her perspective…I can see why she is so puzzled by acts of hate now. I don't believe she has the capacity to hate someone unless they've done her personal harm. Hating the unknown…is what others do.

Nik delights in it.

So when she felt no impediment to our moving forward, she stepped toward Skyhold with confident footsteps. So at ease with the dark haze settling around her. Not even unaffected by it but simply allowing it to pass through her harmlessly.

An interesting approach to hostile soul debris, I thought.

Until she collapsed. Then, I found it hard to think at all.

* * *

 

Nik POV

" _ **Oh for god's sake!**_ " I shout and throw my hands up, then put them on my hips. " _ **What the hell, man!?**_ "

There is a rumbling chuckle that shakes the shadow before me, " _ **It is not entirely my doing. Old magic is seeking out permission to let you in. I can let you past it, dissipate the spells entirely, but I need something for you, first.**_ "

" _ **Don't you mean you need something**_ **from** _ **me?**_ " I ask, quirking a brow.

" _ **It**_ **does** _ **irritate me, but it's more for you than for I.**_ " He responds. Definitely sounds and looks like a _he_. " _ **I could go on as we are just fine, but I would prefer**_ **not** _ **to. And since you are resisting coming to the conclusion**_ **yourself** _ **…**_ "

My head feels like it's cracking open before I can even think to question him.

A sudden influx of confused information floods into my mind from his general direction and I scream inside my dream until the bubble bursts from the force of my anguish.

It's not physical pain, really. It's more like concentrated despair, anger and grief- all wrapped up together and shoved into my skull at once.

When I come to, the shadow is wrapped around me again, but he has more form now. His body is solid enough to hold mine without wisping about on the edges.

" _ **You**_ **can't** _ **be.**_ " I croak into the dreamscape as he reconstitutes the bubble around us.

" _ **Face the truth, love. Open your eyes.**_ " As I'm looking straight at him, he obviously means that metaphorically. " _ **I am every part of him he hates.**_ " His expression scrunches up in something like irritation and discomfort.

" _ **That isn't possible. People can't just…rip themselves in half!**_ " The information has to be made up. A false memory, _something_!

" _ **What would I have to gain by lying to you?**_ " He asks, sighing. " _ **You wouldn't implicitly trust anything I said or accept my help without verifying the truth, anyway. But you can ask**_ **them** _ **.**_ "

" _ **Ask who?**_ "

… … …

"Nik?" The world resettles and it's like I blinked and instead of looking at shadow-Solas, I'm now looking at real-Solas. "Can you see me? Can you hear me? Answer me, _please_."

He looks so pale and worried it makes me feel guilty. I can feel tears dripping down my face as I cringe away from him, expecting anger, "sorry."

I'm pulled up against his chest as he wraps his arms around my shoulders and buries his face in my hair. He breathes deeply, possibly trying to control his urge to tell me how stupid I am. "Are you alright?"

"I think so," I respond meekly. I can feel the tension building up and the anticipation is killing me. "There was a thing. I didn't know."

"I know you didn't." His voice is so quiet, but all I can hear is recrimination.

* * *

 

Solas POV

It is almost as if she fears I will _strike_ her and it…hurts worse than the fear did.

I cannot let go, I cannot…make my arms obey the very logical insistence that this is too much emotion to be showing in front of a stranger. She is alive, her eyes are open and she is not lost to me.

I was not this upset after she survived the first rift and she _did_ actually die a few times, then.

Remembering that is not helping.

"There is too much magic," I note aloud with some relief. That is why she is reacting this way. "Just breathe. The miasma has dissipated, it should be safe now."

Ignoring the fact that her emotions are only _amplified_ and not _invented_ by the overload of magic…

"Someone approaches." The Augur is staring into the fortress with his staff held aloft, eyes narrowed from under his leather headdress.

Cole paces past us to get closer. "They think she's him. They don't know."

"They who, Cole?" A sneaking suspicion occurs to me, but. No. It is impossible.

"It isn't." Cole says, looking at me with clear eyes. "They are."

I've never felt fear and elation mixing in quite this way before.


	93. Chapter 93

Two elves appear from the inner sanctum of the fortress and descend the steps with magic swirling angrily about them.

My head is still throbbing with excess magic, so I just look at Solas. "I don't think I could talk to anyone right now. I'd babble a lot and maybe piss them off."

He hasn't released me, though his grip is mainly just around my shoulders with one hand pressed to my cheek so he can run magic through my head. He's been trying to dissipate the magic by taking some, but it isn't enough. Even I can tell it's addling me.

He sighs and his hands move away from me, only far enough that he can stand up at first. His eyes dart from me to the elves until he finally makes a face and gestures, throwing a barrier over me, Cole and the Augur as he steps forward to meet the unknown elves.

He calls out to them in common, then Elvhen. I can feel the shift, even if I can't make out the words from this distance.

Soon, all three of them are conversing and gesticulating with their arms and hands going into the gestures as if telling an incredibly interesting story.

One of them is a brunette with muddy red eyes and the other is a blonde with eyes a brighter shade of crimson. I wonder for a moment if that's a natural eye color for elves like gold seems to be among the Sentinels…

The three elves glance back toward me and Solas is sighing like I said something stupid.

"Oh my god, did I wonder that out loud?" I'm more panicked that I might've said 'Sentinels' than anything else.

"You asked why their eyes are red." Cole says, settling on the ground beside me. "Some of it was natural, some of it they did to themselves."

I frown and blink at Cole for a moment. "Body modification with Magic?"

"Yes. Exactly like the mirror." He responds. "But they didn't need a mirror to do it."

Probably to my wondering if Xenon's mirror in the Black Emporium was something they used for that purpose or not. "Oh. Okay."

Solas is walking back over to us, stiff-backed and formal-looking. "Herald, _These elves only speak Elvhen. You will need to speak with them if only for a moment. They wish to verify the mark's magic for themselves…_ " He pauses and sighs. " _It seems we've stumbled upon Ancient Elves woken from Uthenera._ "

"Ancients?" I say with my eyebrows springing up. "Oh. That's going to be a problem, isn't it?" I glance over at Cole. He knows what I'm really asking.

"Solas wouldn't let them hurt anyone." He says, dipping his head so I can't see his face.

' _Who says Solas would stop them? We're just shadows to him anyway._ ' The thought makes me feel guilty for thinking it, but…it's kinda true.

"No, you're not. He wouldn't let them do that." Cole says, quietly but obviously loud enough for Solas to hear.

"She is not _what_?" He asks, and I can see him shifting his weight, but I don't look up to see his facial expression. His tone is telling enough.

" _We will speak to her_ _ **now**_." The blonde one steps around Solas and looks down his nose at me. He doesn't even tilt his head down enough to get a good look at me. " _This one claims you are the owner of this magic._ "

Asshole actually reaches down to grab my left hand, that's sitting in my lap.

The mark doesn't like him, apparently because it sends out a burst of energy and he ends up on his ass. The other elf is humming with lightning that's directed straight at me.

Solas is already swinging his staff at his head and the blonde one is beginning to glow with Necromancer energy.

" _STOP_." I say loudly. And the mark obeys. Somehow.

All of them cease moving and their magic is frozen, though all of their eyes move to stare at me. Two of them with malice, one with exasperation, I can _feel_ it. "Well what did you expect me to do?" I say to Solas and then stand up to face down the other two. "Up, come on."

The blonde is pulled to his feet, slowly, his mana still frozen. He and the blonde one are growling deep in their throats.

Solas is still stuck in mid-attack until I release him from the spell altogether. He's able to stop his staff from smacking that other guy in the face, but just barely.

"Release them, or kill them." He says, walking over to hover at my left. "You cannot maintain this."

He's right, it's already starting to make me feel that rippy sensation. "Hang on. Cole, take the Augur further away from here, please."

"Yes!" He says excitedly and streaks off with the Augur following, looking regal but put out. Probably feels insulted I'm not letting him fight.

I take a few deep breaths as I wait for them to get out of hearing range and slowly allow the spell, whatever it is, to deteriorate. "Everybody relax. I didn't mean to explode, he gets cranky sometimes."

"Who?" Solas glances at me with his brow furrowed.

So I sigh as the spell disappears and say, " _Fen'Harel_."

The lack of flush in his cheeks, ears and lips tells me he's just gone pale. Since he's pale as liquid paper it's hard to tell sometimes, but that wild look in his eyes is telling.

"Relax, he's not controlling me. He's just…protective." I give the two elves a look. "He seemed to know about you, he said you'd tell me it was really him in there." I lift my hand and gesture at the mark with my other one.

They're both staring at the mark, as pale as Solas. Though since they're both a light shade of brown, it's more noticeable and alarming to see that pallor to their faces.

" _He yet lives on?_ " The brunette mutters, wide-eyed.

" _No!_ " The blonde points at me. " _He would not attack any of the People, not to protect a Shemlen!_ "

Solas actually flinches a little at that, either because it's true or because it's not- either way…

" _I'm his host,_ " I tell them. " _He's kind of…stuck inside me._ " I wave my hand a bit and then purse my lips and come out with the most upsetting part that's still freaking me out a little internally. " _And he keeps calling me 'love' no matter how many times I tell him to stop, so I think he's…attached._ "

Solas sighs, long and loud.

"What? It's not _my_ fault." I say with some petulance. "I thought he was just some weird spirit in my dream until this."

He tilts his head at me. "You did not think to tell me about a strange spirit visiting your dreams?"

"He never did anything mean or asked for anything except for…well, for me to _know_ him." I respond a little defensively. "I was in denial about who he was. I figured if he wasn't hurting me, he'd eventually get bored and just go away if he was a demon trying to feed off me or something."

He groans and rubs his face with his hands.

" _This is what he calls you, 'love'?_ " The brunette's nose wrinkles. " _That is not a term of endearment in our language._ "

" _It is in mine._ " I respond, sighing. " _I guess the equivalent would either be_ Vhenan _or_ Ma'lath."

They pale at that.

" _That isn't possible._ " The blonde one whispers.

" _We're a lot alike in some ways, which I guess is why he might not be so pissed off at having to be stuck with me._ " I say and grin a little. " _I used to be weird even where I came from, but now everybody_ _ **likes**_ _it, go figure!_ "

" _Lord Fen'Harel is a warrior and a savior and- you are small and fragile!_ " The brunette sputters.

" _Are you sure?_ " I smile a bit more like a baring of teeth than anything associated with happiness. " _Are you certain I do not simply look and feel that way?_ "And then I drop my expression into something stoic. " _Even if we fight again, you must tell me your names. It is respectful to know the name of your allies as well as your enemies. I am_ Nik."

The blonde narrows his eyes at me. " _Nanin_."

" _Islanil._ " The brunette says, eyes darting over my form as if searching for something.


	94. Chapter 94

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be a few days before the next update if I don't get a burst of inspiration to write up a couple more chapters today or tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So...I'm planning to write a Jaalmance for Ryder now, though I haven't played the game yet.
> 
> It won't keep me from writing this story, so don't worry about that. If you guys are interested, I'll post a link once I've posted the first chapter.

The servant girls have been trying to learn as much as they can of the recipes I know by heart that they've never seen or tasted before. Probably because most of the recipes I know require a mixer or something to be done the way I know them…and I figured out a way to get magic to supplement. No one in Ferelden would've done that, that I know of. Afraid of magic as they are.

So tonight I taught them Lasagna. They already kinda knew how to make noodles and how to grind up meat- they just needed to be introduced to the cheeses of the somewhat right consistency and shown how to layer them. And of course I had to find spices comparable to what I remember.

One of my soon-to-be justicars has a talent for cooking. And since I intend the Justicars to not only be combatants, but everything else- I reassured her that she'd be able to do it as much as she liked. She seemed to think pledging herself to me would mean she couldn't do anything but defend me and my interests. Which is kind of stupid, I mean what kind of freedom is that?

Why did I agree to do the binding once my blood stopped being in flux, again?

My bond to the slaves has worn off by now and I've got them all sleeping in their own area, far enough away from the other people's rooms that they'll be seen sneaking over there if they try. My Scouts have been instructed to take any of them that try to get to them into custody unless they're delivering blankets or food or something.

Any of the people here try to take advantage and they'll be ejected. No second chances. Not for that.

Me and the rest of my Inner Circle are camping out in the open courtyard in tents. Except Josie who managed to find a servant-sized room that was easily cleaned out. I told her to take it. She's the one who'll have to be writing letters and doing the minding of the Servants while I'm away on whatever business I'll need to look into next.

Which is going to be sealing whatever Rifts are left in whatever places I haven't been to yet- as well as heading back to Orlais for _several_ reasons, Rifts among them.

It probably would've been easier to seal all the Rifts _before_ going to seal the Breach- but I couldn't postpone without good reason and I figured sealing the Breach would stabilize a lot of them, maybe.

Scurrying up the steps to the main building as the sun sets, I get as far into the main room as I can, which isn't far, to be honest- and look for a corner to sit and do some meditation. I'm still learning how to keep my soul outside my usual hiding place deep inside- still figuring out how to keep it out longer than a scant few moments.

Still figuring out how to let someone else in without freaking out and slamming the doors shut, so to speak.

So I sit down in a corner where there's a wooden beam sitting on the floor. I perch on it and lean back against the wall, closing my eyes.

Time passes differently when you're focusing on your breathing and stretching out your awareness. Being unaware of what's going on, I don't realize when three bodies enter the fortress.

I only realize they're there when I open my eyes to see Islanil, Nanin and Solas sitting in front of me. Solas watching the both of them with a furrowed brow and both of them watching me with something indescribable in their eyes.

Their spines are straight and rigid while their bodies lean slightly forward. Their brows are lax, their lips slightly parted and their eyes locked on me with a glazed expression.

"Uh…what?" I look to Solas for explanation.

He sighs, "your spirit is especially…soothing. I don't believe they realized they were being drawn toward you until they saw you and felt the force of it when we walked in."

"How is it 'soothing'?" I ask with some genuine bewilderment.

"It is warm within you, not with optimism but energy." He explains. "It seems you are constantly creating energy out of nothing and it has nowhere to go. When you are like this, open- it is easy enough for others to siphon it from you without even touching your spirit."

I blink and feel my soul retract inside of me, closing up the hole it came out of and disappearing from the air. I realize then that I could feel their souls while mine was out. Not the way I can when I reach out and touch, like I have with Solas's but I could… _sense_ them?

They both make discontented noises in the backs of their throats and look at me with barely hidden petulance now.

" _Why do you hide?_ " Nanin demands. " _One of the people among Shemlen, they would never notice. Why did you not greet us as you should?_ "

I blink. Cause…huh?

Solas sighs, " _Nik is not ancient. Nor Elvhen. She has a mastery over her soul that few can attest to in these times._ "

" _Solas_ _is the_ _Elvhen_. _Not I._ " I say with some satisfaction on the inside.

Solas goes pale again as the two elves whip their heads around to look at him.

" _What? There is no one else here. And even if there were, they could not understand us._ " I shrug, " _I have known for a while._ " I tell him with a nervous smile. Though it's more of a stretch of my lips in the general direction of _up_ than an actual smile.

" _Why did you not-_ " He pauses and scoffs. " _This cannot be something you would simply let go because I intended not to speak of it!_ "

" _I had no reason to talk about it before now. It wasn't relevant._ " I respond with a small smile. More of a real smile this time. " _And also, you know what humans are like…_ " I scrunch my nose up a little. " _Even if our friends would never tell anyone or do anything to hurt you, even if they'd protect you and we both know they'd_ _ **try**_ _…Did you really want it getting out before we had sufficient influence to protect you from mad scientist blood mages or the Orlesian and Ferelden crowns?_ "

His mouth opens and then closes, sighing and settling back, he shakes his head. " _I often forget you are adept at being several steps ahead of possible disaster._ "

"Because you're too busy treating me like an infant, yes." I respond in Common, deadpan.

His lips part and then his entire face is turning pink, "I do not think I am _that_ bad."

"You treat me like I'm made of porcelain and my every decision is bound to be a bad one," I inform him with some irritation. "Half the time I'm annoyed with you and the other half I'm scared of you, it needs to stop."

Something seems to occur to him then, as he glances away and his expression is pained. When he looks back, he seems tired. Weary. "I cannot promise that I will be able to do that."

"Then I can't promise I won't be helping Sera put lizards in your bed and anything else, any _where_ else she might fancy." I tell him with half-lidded eyes. "I'm not a child, I'm not an invalid-" Well, I was on Earth, but that's different. "I can do things for myself and make decisions like any other adult out there. I value your input but I don't need you to _control_ me."

His teeth are grinding, I can see the way his jaw is sitting. "It was never my intention-"

"Does it matter what your intentions are if I feel like that's what you're trying to do?" I ask seriously. My anger doesn't always burn hot. Sometimes resentment can simmer below the surface and I need to resolve it before it becomes a cold, hard ball of…something. It's never the same thing from one time to the next.

He sighs a little harshly, and shakes his head. "I do not know what you expect me to do if you will not tell me something other than 'stop worrying'." He responds.

"I don't have a problem with the worrying, I've told you that." I say back, squeezing my hands around my wrists. This is the part I hate about communicaton, I can never get people to understand me. "But it'd be nice, if instead of acting like I'm breakable, you could act like I'm capable. You don't hover around anyone else like this and I know-" I cut myself off and glance aside at Islanil and Nanin then back to him. They can't understand us, so it doesn't matter what I say. "I know it's different between you and me than you and everyone else, but you can't let that interfere with who I am. That's…unhealthy."

"What do you want me to do? You seem to dislike when I try to close myself off, so I cannot do that either." He's so huffy and he's started to flush from my comment about 'him and me'. It's unfairly adorable.

"Solas, do you imagine I don't worry about you?" I ask, tilting my head.

He blinks and gazes at me for a moment as if trying to divine what answer I want. "You demonstrate worry occassionally, but it doesn't seem to bother you overly much, no."

"Cole, I can feel you there." I turn to glance at Islanil and Nanin who are starting to look irritated with the conversation going over their heads. " _One moment. I must resolve a miscommunication between myself and my elder before we proceed._ "

There's a strange shift to their postures then, surprise and then…acceptance?

Solas chuckles and it's so surprising I glance over at him with my eyebrows all the way up. He takes this as a question, smirk curling the side of his mouth. "Ancients…We, the _Elvhen_ …" He seems to savor being able to say that. "We are very attached to our Elders. You've just told them I am your exclusive mentor. That position is respected- as is the bond between mentor and student."

I blink. "Oh. That's…actually really cool and I want to ask questions about that later. Anyway." I turn and glance at the corner of the room where I can sense Cole's energy. "Cole…" I call out, sing-songing a little.

He sighs and appears from nothing, walking over to sit beside us. "I can't hide from anyone anymore." He almost sounds mournful about that. I'd call it pouty if he weren't so monotone, still.

"So long as you can hide from enemies, I don't think it's such a big deal." I grin.

"How will I help if they can see me?" He asks, sounding distressed.

"You help." I say with a tilt of my head and a raised eyebrow. "When people see a face they can attribute to the helping, it's…more."

He tilts his head back, probably processing whatever information there is in my head about that and finally nods. "Do you want me to do it now?"

"Yes, please." I respond with a smile. "Take it slow, though. Don't want to overwhelm you _or_ him."


	95. Solas POV

"What are we doing, precisely?" I'm out of my depth with most of what Nik does, but this is a new level of incomprehension.

"You're going to let Cole show you what it's like to be in my head for a few seconds." She responds. "Or we can keep yelling at each other and resolve nothing because I don't know the right words to use to show you what I mean."

She has backed me into a corner. She doesn't mean to, but she has.

She is correct, of course- we have said the same things to each other on this subject a hundred times and we are no closer to understanding each other. "This will help me to understand you, but I have no way to help you understand _me_."

"I _understand_ other people easily," she says with a purse of her lips. "It's the _relating_ and _communicating_ parts that…confuse me. That's how I know you're misunderstanding what I'm saying, because I _do_ get what _you're_ saying- and it's a completely different thing than what I'm trying to say to you. If afterwards you still feel like I don't get something, we'll try it the other way around." She turns her attention to Cole then, and narrows her eyes. "And no thoughts other than the ones you know I need to show him. Don't violate my autonomy just because you think it might help, right?"

Cole nods slowly, "I understand."

"Good." She takes his left hand in both of hers, bowing her head and closing her eyes. "I'm gonna focus. He'll reach for you when he can get the thoughts to settle enough. Just relax and let the thoughts roll in, don't try to fight it- or it'll distress you."

This type of communication was never necessary in Arlathan, of course. We could simply connect our souls if we wished to speak without words. But she does not have that level of discipline yet. Going through an intermediary is the only way she _can_ make this connection.

Cole reaches his hand out for me after a prolonged moment of silence. She seems at peace, settled- Cole is staring at me with a direct gaze. "Let it happen. I will make it slower for you."

I was mildly insulted by that until I reached out to take his hand. And then…I was only grateful. The first thoughts I hear seem to be from a few weeks ago. As she flips through them, they are newer and newer.

( _I hope he doesn't get into conflict with the Dalish Scouts I've been taking in. Solas is smart, but he doesn't seem to respect other people's feelings if he thinks they're wrong about something. Remind me why I'm even trying to get along with him? Oh, right. Exploding magic in my hand. God… I like him, I just wish he was nicer to people._ )

That hurt, I will not lie. But the thought is not wrong. I…often clashed with others. In the beginning. I did not know she was so worried about that, or exasperated with me. She was nothing but courteous from the very beginning. Belligerent at times when telling me to be mindful of my phrasing or tone but in the most polite ways possible.

( _Solas keeps glaring at Sera when she says something about Andraste or puts down 'elfy elves'. I tried to explain but I don't think I did it right. He keeps expecting her ears to be who she is and all she wants is to be_ _ **Sera**_ _._ )

An image interposed of Nik feeling trapped within her own body. Being forced into a role she does not want. Not the role of Herald, something- **perfect, I have to be perfect**. And then the release of it. The relief.

( _If I don't do something, somebody's gonna end up punching Solas in the mouth. What is even the purpose of_ _ **telling**_ _the circle mages this shit? They_ _ **know**_ _their own lives, they know what they've done to themselves, they_ _ **know**_ _other mages don't like the circle- Ugh. All he's doing is alienating everyone because he always has to be right. I need to put a Scout on him in case anyone tries to hurt him._ )

I noticed I had an escort at one point, though I assumed it was the Nightingale attempting to-

( _He slipped my fucking Scouts. It's so impressive I can't even be mad. But I want to be. Should I explain why they're there? No, he'd take it as some kind of insult or assume I'm lying. He's still waiting for me to be like the other humans. Afraid of mages and treating people like they're not people isn't how I work. He'll figure that out, eventually._ )

And so I did.

( _Sera needs to feel necessary without feeling valued. Being Valued means people know you. Being Necessary means people go on about their business, not knowing they need you. That's what she likes. I have to keep her stuff quiet, but facilitate her. It's gonna be hard, without the Scouts talking amongst themselves. But I think I can swing it if I get only one group of them to follow her around and forbid them to speak to anyone else about what she does._ )

I _thought_ there was too much quiet surrounding Sera's activities. She is not the type to sit idle. I wonder what horrors she wrought on everyone in Haven that they do not even know was orchestrated by the young Archer.

( _Solas has stopped trying to get Sera to be 'elfy' for the moment, which is a relief. At least I won't have to worry for a while whether she'll do something worse than misplacing his papers and sawing off the ends of his chair and desk legs._ )

That irked me for weeks! I didn't even notice it wasn't my own doing or normal wear and tear…I had wards set in my cabin, how did she get past them without my knowing?

( _No one seems to be warming up to Dorian, I'm going to have find some way to make him less terrifying to the superstitious and less mysterious to everyone else…maybe he'd like to learn the magic techniques I'm teaching the servant mages for mixing and baking and stuff? I could make a big show of it._ )

She's always been so certain that Dorian is harmless to us. She has not been wrong yet, but the amount of affection she holds for him still alarms me.

( _Solas doesn't like Dorian, I expected that. But they could be good friends if he could see past the Tevinter stuff. Dorian isn't the type to like hurting people or subjugating them. He doesn't know what Slavery really_ _ **is**_ _. Solas could teach him just by being near him- they'd talk about it constantly if I could just get-_ )

She intended me to be part of the process of waking Dorian up to the realities of life for slaves in Tevinter…? I was not helpful for that at all.

For some reason that makes me very pleased with myself as well as feeling guilty. I resisted one of her manipulations.

She was confused about my relationship with Dorian? She was unable to see what I could not see either, then.

I am glad for that. For once we were both equally in the dark about something.

( _Cassandra is having trouble reconciling being a woman and a warrior. Tell her about Xena, warrior princess and maybe Kim Possible._ ) **Internal laughter**. ( _I dunno if she'd just dismiss a teenage hero with hand-to-hand combat skills saving the world on a weekly basis, though. It's critical for her self-esteem to know there are legends about women warriors who were as beautiful as they were terrifying._ )

I sigh internally, ' _Ah, Nik._ '

( _Cullen has been taking his potions, thank god- but he seems to be suffering from insomnia again…I'll have Adan mix something up and make him take it at night. I'm sure Cass would shove it down his throat if she had to, she can help. We need our Commander to be at his best._ )

The tangle of emotions surrounding Cullen is confusingly complex. A thread that says 'good templar' to me and another that feels 'redeemable' and yet another…'traumatized'. This is the source of her preoccupation with Cullen's recovery then.

I can feel something as the time moves forward between worries, a cacophany of voices all belonging to her and detailing problems, then- a rush of something like panic and in the midst of it-

( _I don't know when he's coming, but I know he is. Everything is gonna be fine- nobody I know will die and my people will get out, but who will he bring? More Venatori? I stole the mages and templars out from under him, so he can't use them. Maybe he'll leash some Dragons? Can he do that? I don't know!_ )

She didn't seem afraid of Corypheus at all before, and it still does not feel like her fear is for him. She is afraid of bad things happening. The people who make those bad things happen are apparently less terrifying than the bad things themselves.

Interesting.

( _Sera will be safe at the Crossroads. Iron Bull can escort my civilians out and the Chargers will be safe enough doing that. Dorian won't go anywhere and Solas is going to demand to stay with me, I know it. He never trusts me to know what I'm doing-_ )

A break of anguish and blankness that alarms me.

( _What am I going to do with all these slaves? How am I going to rehabilitate them all without taking advantage of them? I have to give them jobs and walk them through daily life in freedom- and now I have to find their families. I'm not leaving them to wonder. But how? The only contacts I have in Tevinter are Dorian's and they don't pay much attention to the Slaves. That's another thing I'll have to work out with him, I guess._ )

I never doubted her offer to find their families was genuine, but to feel the determination within her is reassuring.

( _The Avvar probably won't harm my people, but I feel better taking Solas and Cole with me. I wouldn't trust anyone else to watch out for them like I would. Even the people who_ _ **like**_ _Solas see him as an arrogant ass and probably wouldn't shed a tear if he disappeared. Our friends would do what they could, but they're going to be busy. And Cole…is too important. How rare is Compassion now, I wonder? Uncorrupted Compassion?_ )

Sorrow, regret for some unfathomable reason. Guilt. As if she could have stopped something and chose not to. Her overactive need to fix everything often makes her guilty if something does not get finished to her satisfaction. It isn't surprising this is something that would bother her. But it baffles me, her guilt about it. She is not the one-

It does not matter.

The next are from after we find Skyhold. I can feel the exaltation in her, the feeling of coming _home_ somehow.

( _Those walls are going to need repairing before we start on anything else. But we need places for people to sleep…Oh. I'll clear out the rubble and use it to patch the walls! That way we'll have space and the rubble will be gone. When we need more stone to patch the insides- we'll just get it from the mountains around later. The Avvar probably have some kind of way to harvest stones, actually. They have stone huts. I wouldn't call them houses- there isn't a 'house' feel to them, whatever that means._ )

It would seem her hunches and the informations he knows come together to paint a somewhat-accurate picture of the world for her. She does not know what half of it means but follows her instincts regardless. Looking back on all of the things I thought she had some idea how to do or what to say and her success in that area-

It could easily have gone another way. That is disquieting. And Impressive. How did she adapt this ability?

( _Vivienne is coming to Skyhold in a few days, she and Cullen both- I told her we didn't have a nice enough place, that she'd be miserable. I think I offended her. It's true though, this place is drafty, dirty and filled with Rubble. Vivienne is more used to silk and satin and things having their place at home. She's tough but she's used to having order at wherever she's based or living. I was hoping to have her area cleared first so I could start putting her stuff in there and she could be comfortable when she showed up._ )

Her affection for Vivienne is even more confusing than her affection for Dorian. Vivienne does not show her respect as much as cool civility. She enjoys spending time with her, speaking with her- but her eye is always on her own position.

Nik seems to delight in that fact, using her connections with a delicacy that Vivienne approves and is leery of all at once. She still seems to be looking for the parts of Nik that will not fit her image. She will never find them. They are not there to see.

( _Solas is getting irritable with Islanil and Nanin following him around everywhere. I'm not taking them, though- all they do is insult me. They don't even know he's one of them yet and they still prefer him to anyone else around, of course. I wonder if they can just sense that kind of thing. I just hope they don't end up trying to kill him again. I'll have to let the Anchor explode them, then._ )

A tightness in my chest communicates a feeling of…protectiveness is the closest I can get to its meaning. It almost feels like someone grabbing my heart and squeezing.

( _Josephine thinks it'd be better to call all the mages back to Skyhold as soon as possible to get them briefed. I don't want to make them leave the Crossroads for no good reason. Solas says we can just move them a group at a time and put them back the same way, but I still feel bad uprooting them at all._ )

The world comes back into view as I blink open my eyes. As she said, it was only a few moments. I have the feeling those were only the most severe worries she had. Most of them were about me, my effect on others and others effects on me. She internalizes much of it.

"I have a hundred worries every morning that switch out with a hundred more every afternoon and then a hundred more every evening." She says as I come back to myself.

I glance at her through my lashes, as I'm suddenly exhausted and finding it difficult to keep my eyes open. My hands cradle my head as my elbows plant themselves on my knees. "That was exhausting and it wasn't _all_ of it? Not even for an entire day?"

"Nope." She responds, looking remarkably calm. "Right now I'm simultaneously worrying about our Ancient friends, whether or not Cole showed you anything he wasn't supposed to- if Vivienne's escort will make it here alright, if we're producing enough food for our current expansions…" She trails off and smiles tightly. "And a lot of other stuff I don't tell anyone about. Because talking about my anxiety makes it worse and makes _other_ people anxious too. You can worry about me, but do you…understand _how_ I'd prefer you to do it, now?"

She waits patiently as I process her question, searching my memory for the times that correspond to the memory of her worries.

She explained to me that she would prefer I not speak to the Dalish because it only frustrated both I and whoever I was speaking to.

She tried to explain to me that Sera was rebelling against what other people think she should be, but I was so certain I knew what that was, I didn't hear it.

Her prodding toward Dorian is what led to the confrontation in his tent which led to our newly amicable relationship. We still argue, but she was correct…Dorian is enlightening to speak to, if only to see exactly how the nobility in Tevinter function on a personal level. He is an outlier, but that is more telling than anyone ever knows.

She rarely came out and expressed worry. She presented a logical argument and then usually…left me alone.

"You want me to argue with you rather than express my concerns." I say, looking at her with some incredulity. "You want me to manipulate you?"

"Every conversation anyone ever has is a manipulation." She replies, surprising me. She blinks placidly and smiles a bit softly. "Bringing someone around to see your side of an argument is just how people talk. It's a type of manipulation but also isn't. Using your emotions to try and persuade me won't work. You have to tell me why it's a bad idea and give me logical alternatives. It's how I function."

"And you could not simply tell me that before?" I ask, huffing.

"You weren't really listening or trying to understand before." She says, grinning. "You were doing the same thing everyone does- taking my words at face value and not bothering to extrapolate. But that's okay. You'll be better at it now."

I suppose I will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the end of this conversation, but at least they figured out the miscommunication that was really bothering Nik, right?
> 
> This chapter feels haphazard to me, though I spent more time on it than most chapters I've written.


	96. Vivienne POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into Vivienne's mind, today. I guess I felt I was lacking in Viv content. She really is just a great character. Too often, people just dismiss her as being a 'bitch' or being crazy for wanting the circles in power.
> 
> But Vivienne is a multilayered, strong woman who is undervalued. I don't get all the hate thrown at her. I mean, at first I got why people just didn't like her-- she was antithesis to everything we believe when going into the fandom. That everyone should be free, and she wants the Circles around.
> 
> This isn't because Vivienne's been brainwashed or because she's 'crazy' or 'stupid' or because she wants to hurt mages-- she honestly feels like a Circle or a college of Enchanters is the only way to go. But her reasons will remain a mystery in this story till I feel like she's ready to reveal them.

Well, isn't this…cozy.

"I told you it was too broken and dirty." The Herald sing-songs. "You're gonna be _miserable_." She is taking pleasure from the way my nose scrunched up without my meaning it to.

"I am not so delicate that a few bits of rubble and dirt will keep me from my duties." Lifting my chin and narrowing my eyes, I stare her down. "I also demand that you take me into the field the next time you travel anywhere."

' _I will_ _ **not**_ _be coddled._ '

There is surprise in the Herald's face as she tilts her head at me. "But you handle the Templars. It's mostly administrative, but you also take care of assigning their duties and punishing them when they break the rules. I'd figure you'd be busy all the time."

I am. And the Herald's idea of punishments are usually…quite odd. It is difficult to find a balance between true punishment and 'lesson to be learned' but she has not complained yet.

"Busy or not, I can write letters and assign said punishments from anywhere as easily as I can from Therinfal or…this place." I gesture with my hands to the Courtyard around us. " _Sky_ hold, did you say?"

"Yeah. The _Elvhen_ name is _Tarasyl'an Te'las._ And I know you _could_ , I just assumed you'd prefer to stay stationary and work your contacts and get to know your Templars before doing anything else." She is swaying on her feet, arms crossed. "If you want, we're going back to Orlais soon. You can finish up any business you have there."

"That is not the trip I was referring to, but I would like to go, yes." I respond with an upward tilt of my head. "I wish to go with you to either the Emerald Graves or the Emprise Du Lion."

She blinks. "I was figuring I'd take you to the Emprise anyway, so sure." She grins at the sight of my body stilling in surprise. "It's Orlesian land, sorta so…I was going to ask you, I just hadn't gotten around to it yet."

"Good then, it is decided." I respond, uneasy with the surety she displays. I was so certain she was refraining from taking me anywhere. Perhaps because she thought me weak, or perhaps so I would not undermine her authority. This is strange and unexpected. "Who else will you bring, to Orlais and then the Emprise?"

"Dorian wants to go and do some shopping in Orlais." She begins ticking things off on her fingers. "He'll probably want to see the Emprise too, though he might be ready to go home by that point cause he also wants to see what's up with the Fallow Mire with me and that's a journey and a half…hm…Sera doesn't want to go anywhere near either of those so I'm taking her to the Graves instead…Blackwall is still on the Storm Coast where you left him, right?"

"He is to return shortly, if only to receive his new orders." I respond.

"Good. He can come with us to Orlais and the Emprise, too. Bull's gonna come to the Graves and go to the Western Approach with me to check that out…Cole wants to stay here for the most part cause he's got a bunch of helping to do…"

Every time she mentions that demon I have to control a disgusted shiver. A benign demon is still a demon, after all.

"And Solas goes everywhere with me because he's an overprotective fussbudget…" Her tone is entirely too bland.

I laugh in a controlled manner rather than the inelegant bark that was attempting to escape my lips. "I suppose."

"No supposing about it." She shoots me a too-brief grin filled with teeth and then she's blank again, mulling something over. "Vivienne…if I asked you to teach me something, would you be bothered?"

Now this is surprising. "Whatever would you like to learn, my dear? I would be happy to assist." I am intrigued, my curiosity rearing its head and roaring.

"You know more about Orlesian social etiquette and fashion and things like that than anyone in the Inquisition except maybe Josephine and Leliana- but they haven't been living in Orlais for a long time. You were immersed in it up till recently." She tilts her head at my window and then turns her gaze to me. "Would you mind letting me ask you a million questions and answering them all, is what I'm asking."

A slight chuckle is my response, as I nod once. Definitively.

"Great, thanks." She smiles weakly at that and suddenly I know I've missed something.

There was gossip that she and Solas had recently begun some sort of relationship- Dorian tells me they've just begun admitting to each other that they are interested…so why does she seem so brittle? I expected her to be glowing with the way she looks at that Apostate.

"Might I ask _you_ a question?" I inquire.

She looks at me in surprise. "Uh, sure. I might not know the answer though."

She always says that to anyone who asks her opinion. As if to stave off judgment and disappointment. How strange.

"You and the Apostate…seem to have gotten closer since last we saw each other." I speak slowly, watching her expression.

She looks out the window again and her skin pinks. "Well…sort of. We understand each other better now, but there's still…issues, sometimes."

"Such as?" I have half a guess.

"He's upset I didn't tell him about the weird Spirit who turned out to be Fen'Harel in the mark." She laments. "But I didn't think it was important. Mages get harassed by spirits and I never really asked for anything and neither did he, so I figured I was fine."

"You never felt threatened?" I ask, walking across the floor to stand beside her.

She turns to face me, "he calls me 'love' and is incredibly…touchy-feely. Not in a bad or sexual way, just…affectionate and intimate. Like he knew me, intimately." She sighs and rubs her forehead with her fingertips. "I was in denial about who he was, about what the Anchor was…and I guess I didn't want him to confirm what I already half-suspected."

"And what is that?" I cannot believe she kept this from all of us! Being blind to the demon boy's danger is one thing- he presents an innocuous front. But encountering a strange, powerful entity in the Fade and telling no one? She put _everyone_ in danger.

' _You are the calm in the eye of the storm, Vivienne. Breathe and wish away the fear and the anger. She is unharmed, as are you._ '

"That there was a person in there." She says quietly, gripping her left wrist with her right hand, staring down at the Anchor with hazy eyes. "That…it doesn't matter, I can't deny the truth anymore." She shrugs and throws both hands up. "Anyway, I need help figuring out the stuff I can't just glean off other people, so I figured you'd be the best person to ask about that stuff. Can we start now?"

"Indeed we can." I smile, small and pretty. I learned how to smile so long ago it's almost a dream of a memory.

It seems she does need me for something more than my connections, then. All the better.


	97. Chapter 97

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My teeth are acting up again...ugh.

So, there's tunnels under Skyhold. I'm taking a tour of them now, with Islanil and Nanin leading the way.

" _For the escaped slaves to hide in…_ " I might be looking at everything with wide, glassy eyes and slightly trembling lips. " _He used this place for his rebellion? A waystation or a base?_ "

" _He had no bases._ " Nanin says, subdued and growly. " _He would move from one place to the other as he was needed._ "

" _All the better to keep from sitting on a throne and becoming a king._ " I say with a smile.

" _Even if that were his intention, it does not mean he succeeded._ " Solas is striding along next to me, looking half-sick at times for reasons I can only guess at.

Like that he doesn't like how much I seem to approve of Fen'Harel freeing the slaves- or maybe he thinks I approve of _everything_ he did. I should talk to him about that, soon.

" _No. But it is a nice thought. And it seems like the kind of thing he might do, just because he is fantastically busy trying to save the world- or because he overthought everything and came to the conclusion it was the only way to do it. Like I do, sometimes._ " I'm muttering by the end of it- the two ancients ahead of us had tensed up when Solas spoke but they seem mollified now.

They don't like people questioning Fen'Harel. But would anyone who'd been freed from slavery to the Noble elves under the Evanuris?

" _The point is: whatever he intended, he ended up doing good._ " I keep talking as we walk, glancing inside little rooms carved into the tunnels- like prison cells would look I guess, cause no windows…and the doors are basically spelled rock that moves into place and out of place when someone's nearby. _So_ cool. " _Even if he did lock away the Evanuris and that caused bad things to happen- he freed the People and he gave them time to do what they wanted. How they wanted. Tevinter may have come along and stolen a lot of them and is still holding them hostage, but that was not really so much his_ _ **fault**_ _as it was an unintended consequence. There are lots of those in the world. I am likely going to cause a few, myself._ "

" _I don't believe yours would be on quite this scale._ " He's trying to tease me, but he still looks super melancholy. " _But you are right, I suppose. Every leader, revolutionary or otherwise…has caused unintended consequences…both good and bad._ "

While the guys pull up a little farther ahead of us, spurred on by something, I reach out on a whim to grasp his hand and plant a kiss on his fingers before dropping it. I let my soul out a little after I do, projecting whatever comfort I can in his direction without infringing on his space.

He doesn't stop walking, but I can tell he wants to. He looks a little shell-shocked for a moment, face turning red as he looks away, but his soul opens up and reaches out for mine. "I am fine, _Fenlin_."

' _He only calls me that when he's feeling particularly affectionate. Or feels safe. For some reason the ancients don't alarm him as much as the others when displaying affection. It's like it's just a habit at this point. From when, for what?_ '

"You seem worried. Freaked out." I let the energy curl around mine, like he likes to do when no one's looking.

I can feel Islanil and Nanin reaching out- but they stop short of actually touching either of us, apparently basking in whatever glow I give off.

"It isn't every day you learn one of the Dalish Pantheon has followers that still live to this day." He responds, sighing. "And I am worried about what this means for you, as you well know."

"If you're so worried, why don't you come say hello tonight?" I ask, giving him a lopsided grin when he shoots me a look. "I'm sure he could be persuaded to stick around long enough."

"I have no wish to see the face of your…wolf god." His mouth twists up in this funny way it usually only does when he drinks tea. "I am not certain I could without…" He scrunches his nose up now and looks down and I feel a spike of something incredibly foreign.

It grabs at me, not like with claws but reaching out to me and grasping like it wants to take hold and can't. I feel like I _should_ know what it is…but I can't place it.

"Without…?" I prompt him, trying to meet the feeling with mine, but unable to figure out how to quiet it.

He stops and turns to me, arm reaching out to pause me. We're almost to the end of this tunnel's row, Islanil and Nanin go on down the staircase, though I can feel them stop a bit further down.

All the while he's standing there, staring at me and that feeling keeps _grabbing_ with yearning fingertips- but it's not yearning. It's not anything I can recognize. "I…what? I dunno what that is."

He shocks me by falling back against the wall of the tunnel and laughing the loudest I've ever heard. He bends in half and sits on the ground, trying to stifle himself as helpless breathless chuckles escape him and he holds his face like he's trying to shove the mirth back in.

The grabby feeling recedes and becomes something softer and warmer that I recognize but don't want so close to me. Not-

' _Not from him._ ' So my soul retracts and I make a little noise of frustration- because while I couldn't handle it, I was not _trying_ to suck it back in.

Solas sighs and leans back against the wall, head tipped backward so he can look up at me from under lowered eyelashes.

I don't expect the sudden wave of _god he's beautiful_ to hit me so hard, but it does and I'm all of a sudden blushing up to the roots of my hair. "What?" I demand a little gruffly, shifting on my feet and wanting to cross my arms but knowing he'd pick up on that.

A slow smirk inches across his face, for some reason. "I should have expected that, to be quite honest. It still surprised me."

I just stare at him in utter confusion. "Huh?"

He snorts and his head dips, chin touching his chest as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck with his left hand. "Nothing important, _Fenlin_."


	98. Chapter 98

"Verchiel?" I'm a little wary of this quest, but it's not like I'm gonna say no. Well. Not precisely. "What would walking a bunch of soldiers through actually do? In the long term?"

"It'd make the rich tits nervous, it what it'll do." She says, indignant. "Don't you see? They're warrin' around like a bunch o' pisspots with land and people under them and the little people under _that_ get stomped underneath their boots. Need to make 'em nervous, make 'em afraid you're gonna do somethin'."

"Can't I just actually _do_ something instead?" I ask, quirking a brow and tilting my head.

She pauses in her boisterous bouncing movements on the settee thing that is her bed. "Wot?"

"I could do something more than just march my people through. Actually improve their quality of life." I shrug. "I'd have to look into where we have contacts and allies and figure out how to move things around…"

"Wot, just like that?" She asks, staring at me a little lopsidedly. I mean she has her head kind of turned on its side as she stares at me with her eyes squinted up.

I snort a little bit. "What's that look for? Yes, just like that. If there's a problem and we can fix it, then we should. It's a responsibility of having power. Physical, political- whatever advantage you have, you have a responsibility to-"

She groans and flops backwards, "boooooriiiiinnnnggg."

I huff and settle back against the wall behind me. "Fine, fine. I'll figure out what's to be done and leave you out of the loop completely then."

She huffs back and rolls over. "Fine with me, just quit talkin' 'bout 'respons'bility' shite."

"Right, cause the only helping that matters is the kind you do for a couple minutes that doesn't really fix anything but puts smiles on people's faces for a couple seconds." I respond a little dryly.

She lifts her head to send me a look, it's irritable and tells me I'm getting something replaced with something else this week.

"What you do is great, Sera. But it's not the only kind of helping there is, and you either respect that or you don't." I stand up and walk to the doorway. "I want to help people for the rest of their _lives_. I know you want that too, somewhere deep down inside. You just don't know how."

She makes a Pff-ing sound that means she just raspberried at my back.

I shrug at the doorway, "when I find a way you can humiliate people and still help change their servants and underlings lives instead of just running away afterwards- I wonder if you'll help. Or if I'll have to get another Jenny in on it."

She makes another rude noise, "none o' the jennies goin'a accept no titles or some shite like that."

I bark a laugh as I leave, "funny how _I_ didn't mention title-shit and yet _you_ assumed that was the only way to go."

"What other way is there with rich tits!" She calls after me like an answer instead of a question.

… … …

"Recover things from Haven? Sure, we can do that." Krem leans forward in his seat and takes the small hand drawn map from me. "A lot of stuff down in the Chantry dungeons?"

"I figured it was a safe place to keep everything. There's a lot of food in jars, coin and other supplies. Even some weaponry and armor. I just need it all delivered to the Crossroads. A lot of people will be traveling here from there and they can just bring it on their caravans." I shrug and smile. "I also want you to take a couple of my Justicars-in-training to evaluate them for me. The ones interested in combat, anyway."

"Which ones would that be, then?" Krem falls into his role as Captain so easily. "And what will I evaluate them for?"

"Which ones are good under pressure, which ones freak out at what- just figure them out and then write it up for me to peruse. I trust your judgment. I'll be figuring out who does the barriering when it comes to protecting a party and who does the combat as well as many other things." I inform him with some seriousness. Then I grin. "And if you wanna keep one, we can talk about that too."

He chuckles in response and takes a long draught of his tankard. "Alright. We can do that. What about the Chief? You takin' him out anywhere anytime soon? He's gettin' antsy."

"Yeah I intend to take him through the whole of the Exalted Plains with me." I respond, flinching a little internally at the fact that I have no idea if it's even _possible_ to stop what happened there…especially if it's going to happen before we can even get there…

I need to figure something out. He _needs_ Wisdom. It's his voice of reason, I think. Maybe its death is one of the things that pushes him downhill. In which case- I don't know.

"We'll take care of it, Your Worship." I'm surprised to find Krem's hand curling around mine and squeezing on top of the table. His expression is very understanding. "You've got a lot to do in not a lot of time. We won't fail you."

"I don't think that possibility has ever crossed my mind," I answer with some amusement. "Sorry, I keep drifting off." I squeeze back and we release each other.

He grins companionably, "happens when you're responsible for hundreds of thousands, I'd imagine."

I blink. "Wow. That's…is that an accurate number or are you guessing? Cause I forgot to check the numbers."

"Didn't you hear?" He asks, looking surprised. Maybe shocked. So it must be something big. "The Lady Ambassador must be swamped if she couldn't fit you in to talk about it."

"Talk about what?" I'm worried now.

"Ever since you recruited that whole Vashoth mercenary group- people've been joinin' up left an' right." He says, gesturing excitedly with his hands. "We've got city elves comin' 'ere in droves, Vashoth comin' out o' the woodwork and Dwarves on the surface who refuse to work with anyone who doesn' like us."

I tilt my head a little bit as I think- but I can't think- "What?"

"Oh yeah. From the Alienages all over- they're comin' to Skyhold today, some of 'em. From Kirkwall, I heard from Varric." Krem chuckles. "I think he knows one of 'em."

"Okay, I need to go find some people to talk to, cause…I mean, being busy is one thing but come on!" I throw my hands up after pushing myself to my feet. "Thanks Krem!"


	99. Chapter 99

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm currently still in the brainstorming phase for that jaalmance fic, and now I'm thinking I'll be doing a Reyes Vidalmance too...
> 
> Screw me. Fuckin' hell. Why do I keep doin' this to myself?

"What the hell is this I hear that we've got incoming refugees?" I walk into the now-usable Great Hall and put my fists on my hips as I stare down at Varric who's stopped mid-story to blink at me. "Why didn't anybody tell me? We've got shit that needs doing- did everybody do it or am I gonna have to-"

Varric clears his throat to cut me off. "Well, I'll tell you the rest later. I've got an important discussion to have with the Herald."

The assorted soldiers, scouts, mages and children grumble but disperse from the area.

I wait until they're mostly gone before sitting at the table next to Varric and crossing my arms, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Alright, I get it." He puts his hands up and chuckles. "We have it covered, though. They've got four capable people protecting them on the way here, along with several of their number who are good combatants on their own- they should be fine until they get here. There's Dalish in the group so they'll be good on food and water, too."

"What about-" I start to gesture around Skyhold but he cuts me off again.

"We've got all of that figured out, too. They're bringing blankets and furs and shit from their homes in Kirkwall and they're gonna set up in Aravels they're bringing just outside Skyhold until we can fit them inside." He speaks slowly as if talking to a frightened animal.

"I don't like this." I say immediately. "They should have an escort, to deter someone from even _trying_ \- and there's Venatori _everywhere_ -"

"Daisy and the Broody elf have it covered." He reassures me.

I go still and stare at him for a moment. "Merrill. And Fenris. Are coming to Skyhold. And. You. Didn't. Tell me!?" I'm almost shrieking by the end of it, holding my chest with my hands. "Oh my god. I can't put them _outside the walls_!"

Solas peeks out of the rotunda and is apparently alarmed by the sight of me hyperventilating a little so he walks out around the table to sit beside me. "What's going on? Breathe, _fenlin._ What's wrong with her?"

"I think her hero-worship is acting up." Varric laughs. "Daisy and the Elf are coming with a whole group of Dalish and City elves from Kirkwall and she's…"

"They want to put them _outside._ " I whisper-shriek a little bit. "Merrill and _Fenris_. For god's sake, I don't like putting anyone outside to begin with but two of the Champion's fucking _companions-_ " I'm on the edge of actual hyperventilating at the moment.

"Well it's not like they mind. We worked this out a couple days ago." Varric balks at my expression. "Schemer, come on- you've been totally buried in work. I could handle this with the Nightingale's help."

" _So_ not cool, Varric." I respond with a pout. "You need to tell me when important people are coming! Or any people at all, really!"

"Alright well." He pauses to think for a moment. "There's gonna be some Vashoth coming in later this week, maybe around fifty or sixty depending if they pick anyone up on the way. Then there's the hundred or so elves from assorted Alienages and clans from around Ferelden a couple weeks after that-"

"Oh my god, ohmygod-" I wrap my arms around myself and start rocking. "Why does no one tell me things? When you tell me after or all at once like this, it's- Look how I'm freaking out! This doesn't happen if I'm kept in the loop!"

"Shit, Schemer, relax." Varric sighs. "Probably shouldn't tell you about Hawke meeting up with the elves, but since you wanted to know so badly-"

"Hawke is coming?" I ask blandly. At least that's _expected_. "Well fine, but it's the countless numbers of possibly helpless people traveling cross-country with nowhere to put them that alarms me!"

"We have space, it simply is not livable yet." Solas breaks in with, and I finally notice his soul curling around me. "It will be soon enough. The Champion's party need not stay outside for more than a few days, a week at the most. Repairs are going quickly."

Releasing my energy makes him flinch back, but he doesn't draw his soul away. He stays where he is, wrapped around me and projecting calm.

"Never thought to put warriors to work clearing rubble and calling it training." Varric chuckles and eyes my suddenly-calmer state. "You always come up with the weirdest shit."

"It isn't weird, it's just something warriors usually think themselves above. It has a dual purpose of reminding them they're no better or worse than laborers, they're not above or below- they do what they can and what they can do can help people." I respond absent-mindedly as I go over some things in my head. "Excuse me, I have to go bug Dorian about something. Solas? Would you mind coming with me?"

I'm already moving without waiting for an answer. If he doesn't follow, I can find him later. The world is blurring around me, I'm focused. I'm on a mission.

I can still feel his soul curled around mine and he's about two steps behind me the whole way into the Rotunda, up the stairs and over to Dorian's little nook. Other than that, I notice nothing else but the steps ahead of me.

"Ah, there you are!" Dorian is dropping books from the bookcase next to him into a tidy little stack-pile. Like, there's four stacks about shin-high. "Dreadful selection you have here. Can't find a decent tome on Tevinter that doesn't smack of trite propaganda but if you want to find out if one of the Divines had a-"

"Dorian, I'll order you all the books you want- but I've got kind of an emergency going on right now. I need your help." I tap my fingertips across my arm and feel a little bad at the way Dorian jerks and stares at me as if he's never seen me before.

"Something's wrong?" Concern, worry and suspicion. Not directed at me, that last one- his eyes dart around as if trying to divine it from simply thinking about what could've possibly gone wrong. Reminds me of my instant paranoid accounting of 'all bad things that could happen ever'.

"Not wrong, just…" I flail internally for an explanation. "Fenris is coming here. He'll probably be fine with the mages- he's not indiscriminate about…but you're-"

"The same Fenris that Varric warned me was showing up?" He asks, lifting a brow. "I've been availed of the things I should not be saying around Fenris."

"Thank god, but that's not all." I respond. "It's, you can't- and he-"

I could be overreacting, I'm aware of that. Fenris could greet Dorian with surprised welcome- I mean. They could talk about how cold it is down here together and delight over Tevinter wines so long as Dorian doesn't ever mention his stances on Slavery- and Fenris could help him see that it's wrong if he just _listens_ to Fenris- but there's also the bad things that could happen.

One thoughtless comment could escalate, over hours, weeks, months-

Solas is standing right behind me, showing a lot more affection in public than he usually does when he grasps my shoulders and speaks lowly in my ear. "Nik. I don't believe you have to worry about Fenris murdering Dorian in a fit of pique." He sounds so sure and there's a note of concern in his energy around mine.

I'm breathing in that funny way I do before a panic attack, so I know it's too late to stop it.

"Oh, _Amicus_. No." Dorian walks over and I'm all of a sudden surrounded on all sides by someone trying to reassure me. "I intend to avoid him as much as possible. I promise you I will not make myself a target."

And that's when I break down in tears, hiccuping sobs really- because it's just all too much. This is why I need to _know_ things beforehand, damn it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note here, I'm aware Fenris isn't a constantly-angry rage monster. Okay? I'm aware that Nik is probably freaking over nothing. I am not Nik. Nik is a character and allowed to be wrong. Just to forestall all the comments directed at me like Nik and I are interchangeable and we must both have the same opinions. No.


	100. Chapter 100

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm running into issues with writing the next few chapters and the segue into the next part, but I'm figuring it out. Hopefully I won't have to go long between updates even if I do get stumped a day or two here and there.
> 
> I keep telling you guys that I'm gonna lag and then I end up getting a huge burst of inspiration, I dunno if I'm psyching myself up here or what. lol.

"I'm telling you, this isn't necessary." Varric insisted on coming just so he could keep reassuring me the whole way down that I was just being overreactive. Which would be annoying if I weren't still numb. I think. It's hard to remember what would irritate me and what would amuse me when I'm like this.

"Necessary or not, I'm doing it. Either stop me or leave it alone." I respond in a monotone voice. "If everyone wanted me to stay out of it, they should've let me know ahead of time. Now you've made it impossible for me to let it go."

"We're gonna remember next time, I can promise you that much." Varric mutters and sighs.

He's riding in the cart with me and the others. Since the horses don't like me and this was a good compromise.

It's just me, Varric, Solas and Vivienne from the inner circle- plus some soon-to-be Justicars on horses around us.

Solas hasn't left my side since I collapsed sobbing in the library yesterday. Part of me wonders if I should be irritated or touched by that. I'm too empty of everything to really know if this should count as overprotective or that he's just too anxious to be apart from me after watching me dissolve like that.

Solas and I are one side of the cart, Varric and Vivienne on the other.

He's sitting with his arm wrapped around me, almost nonchalantly. He's been in constant contact with me- but his soul stays firmly where it is, inside himself. I think it unnerves him to reach out and find nothing there.

"How did they fall out of contact if we had eyes on them?" Vivienne questions Varric, giving him a prim look that's filled with pointed questions.

"The bird didn't come back on time, it's probably flown back by now. No big deal." He shrugs. "Hawke and Daisy can handle a lot, and with Broody around to take up the slack- nobody's gonna hurt them."

"Hawke isn't invincible." I respond flatly. "Fenris is a capable warrior, but he'd be vulnerable to Magic in a way the others aren't. And if they could disable him, they could get around Hawke and Merrill." I can see exactly eleven strategies the enemy could employ to get around the elite fighters and their not-so-elite dependents.

"It never happened before." Varric defends. "The hunters mages never tried any weird magic to get the elf to-"

"Lady Herald!" A scout comes running out of the trees with a bundle of black feathers in her arms. "Our raven was shot down with magic! It's dead!"

A jolt of something almost like dread shoots down my spine. "We need to move faster- spread out! Remember what I said to say if you run across the Dalish in their party!"

I taught them the Dalish greetings that might not get them shot full of arrows if they run across some stray hunters. _Aneth Ara_ \- it could give the impression of having Dalish allies and friends. It could also just seem like clueless humans and city elves trying to emulate their language- but whatever.

I tried.

The wagon starts moving faster and bumpier down the road. "Vivienne…"

"Yes?" She turns her gaze to me and the sunlight glints off her Hennin.

"Is there any possible way I could persuade you to use magic to flatten the roads when this is over? If I gave you my mages that want to do manual labor would you oversee that?" Since it's occurred to me that these roads are wayyy too bumpy now, I just mention it.

Solas is super busy with the Justicars-in-Training and a whole mess of other magey-problems and she seems to want more responsibility. I don't know why, I gave her one of the most important jobs...maybe she's just like me and needs to run herself ragged or she feels underutilized.

"I would not mind coordinating such an effort if it means less-" A particularly harsh bump nearly sends her onto the wagon's 'floor'. "Yes. I will gladly help in your endeavor."

I'm almost amused, I can almost feel it. "Thank you." I say, still somewhat flat.

" _Fenlin_ , if there is a fight going on…please, stay out of it." Solas is eyeing me from right beside me. "We will be much more effective if we don't have to worry about protecting you as well as them."

It's as true as it is a blatant guilt trip. "Fine." I respond. "But if things go wrong-"

"They will not." He cuts me off, arm tightening around me. I'm assuming unconsciously.

"You can't keep me in a bubble forever, and it would be unwise to try." I end with as the wagon pulls up into the clearing where the caravan was last seen.

I can feel the flicker of his fingertips tightening up on my hip, but they disappear as he pulls away from me. Standing and vaulting over the side of the wagon in a movement that's controlled and probably would have had me staring and blushing if I could feel anything other than apathy at the moment. Still I tuck the memory away for sketching later.

The crouch as he hits the ground to absorb the impact, the way his head is tilted up and his ears are pricked up further than usual. It's the way he looks when he goes into a fight, the expression on his face blank- almost grim.

He goes out into the trees and even as caught up as I am in my apathetic headspace, I can still feel a frisson of worry. I want to go after him.

"So, when Hawke and Broody and Daisy meet up with us, are you going to shove pastries down their throats?" Varric taps the giant basket I packed in the wagon, just in case they hadn't been eating well.

"You know us hero types." I respond dryly. "Always forgetting to eat when there's things to be done."

He can't really argue with me, I can see that in his face. But then he tilts his head at me. "I didn't think you thought of yourself like that."

"I don't." I say with a ghost of a smirk quirking the edge of my mouth. "But that's how you're going to write it if I know anything about you at all."


	101. Solas POV

I knew what she would do, when she discovered what happened. So I pre-empted her.

( _Fenris said they would drag off the women first and then we would all be fighting in a confusing mess- so Hawke told me to take the girls and run away if someone attacked. To hide in the brush. So I did. I took them and we hid, but they never came back! I have to find Hawke!_ )

I sent the women back with the Justicars in training and followed Merrill to the last place she saw Hawke and the elven men who fought with him to hold off the bandits.

( _I think it was more than one group. They all banded together when they saw us crossing the plain, I think. A few Hunters with a dozen bandits and some Templars. I know they were Templars because I could feel the magic knocked out of me as I ran. I didn't stop- it hurt so_ _ **much**_ _\- but I didn't stop._ )

Apparently she thinks the Hunters enlisted the help of the Templars and the bandits after coming upon them and realizing they would need help to take the entire caravan. How much of a surprise was it to find the Champion and two of his companions defending them? Was it really a coincidence?

We followed their trail until we came upon a camp. Conversing the whole way, to soothe the tension we were both feeling, I suppose.

( _Hawke is going to be so upset if they managed to take any of them._ ) Merrill had spoken mournfully, wringing her hands around the grip of her staff. ( _It will devastate me to know I couldn't do my duty as a Keeper, but Hawke…always takes losses personally. He feels so responsible for people he can't save, like it is all his_ _ **fault**_.)

( _Nik is much the same._ ) I responded with.

( _The Herald?_ ) She had paused and blinked impossibly large green eyes at me. ( _Varric said she was a good woman. Is it…is it true that the Inquisition is safe for Elves?_ )

( _Safer than the rest of Thedas, for certain._ ) I answered her. ( _It was smart of you, to come to Skyhold. If Varric hadn't been attempting to hide Hawke from all of us, this wouldn't have happened. I don't know why he would go to so much trouble to hide it from_ _ **her**_ _. Cassandra, certainly- but Nik would welcome the Champion and his companions with open arms._ )

( _Well…not everyone is so understanding._ ) She had said, looking nervous as we followed the trail to the camp. ( _With what happened with…Anders…and…_ )

( _The Herald does not blame Hawke for what Anders did._ ) I remember snorting at that thought, and the next. ( _She does not even blame_ _ **Anders**_ _for what Anders did._ )

I remembered that surprised her enough she almost walked straight into a tree. ( _What? Why not?_ )

( _The Herald has a greater understanding of Spirits, the mind and what kind of stresses can break a man than anyone I have met. If the Chantry were not corrupt, it never would have happened to begin with- and while the loss of life was unacceptable…she does not believe in punishment for punishment's sake. She believes you must learn something from it, and become better._ ) The entire exchange was tense, not for the subject matter but because I expected to hear her from behind us the whole way. Crashing through the brush, perhaps fade-stepping-

But they must have listened when I told them to downplay the danger. Or perhaps they simply knocked her unconscious. That would also be effective.

Is it wrong that I would prefer she be unconscious? Perhaps. But at least she would be safe.

The blankness in her eyes and the way she spoke with such slow and intelligent diction. None of her usual nonchalant swearing or blunt innocence. She is simply matter-of-fact.

She seems a true tranquil.

I can see how wrong I was to think these people were ever so empty, now. Seeing the emptiness and knowing what is usually inside-

The light, the warmth, the energy…well. It scares me to think she could get hurt in that state and perhaps…stay that way. Longer. I want her to be back to normal, but I cannot hurry her recovery from this…overburdening. I do not know what to call it. It is as if her emotions were allowed free reign for only a handful of moments, but it was enough to burn her from the inside out.

To make her a husk.

That is why I couldn't go back and give her the information- why I came with Merrill on my own.

And so, after an hour or so of tracking- we came upon the camp and hid in the trees to watch.

Fenris was pulled to the middle of camp, struggling against his bonds- chains wrapped around him tightly. Struggling so weakly that I suspected he had lost much blood-- or been poisoned.

Nik's voice echoed within my mind, as if she were standing next to me, whispering in my ear. ( _I admire Fenris, so much. He escaped slavery and destroyed his original master with the help of his newfound family. If I can help_ _ **any**_ _of them, I will. But Fenris…I have to help Fenris. It isn't even a question._ )

When they began nailing parts of the chains to the ground, I knew they were doing _something_ but I was not certain _what_ until the Templars brought out the shard of red Lyrium. And then I noticed their sickly appearances from under their helmets, the sunken eyes that shimmer red.

I remember the story of the Lyrium markings, of course. What would it take to corrupt those markings- A single touch? An injection of liquefied red lyrium under the skin? Simply stabbing him with it? What did they intend to do- I wondered.

And then, I acted.

"He doesn't look so good." The Champion is looming over me. He is pale and seems to be weaving on his feet. "I know you're not a healer, Merrill- but can you do something for him?"

"He took a potion, he should survive such a wound." A voice from behind him, a man cloaked and hooded. "Who is he, anyway?"

"He's one of the Herald's companions." Merrill informs them, crouching beside me to offer me her hand. "Up now, _Lethallin_."

"My legs are not quite recovered from the blow I took, _Da'len_." I respond.

The surprise in her blinking is satisfying.

"I will get the mage on his feet." The surly voiced Fenris approaches me. "I can either support you or carry you, but we are not staying here."

"I suppose it would be useless to argue." I respond, sighing and grasping hold of a tree nearby to lever myself upright. I lean heavily against the trunk and reach out one arm when Fenris walks up to me.

He pulls my arm across his shoulders and then we are moving.

I do not know much of what happens beyond that point, my consciousness waxing and waning between footsteps until eventually I'm conscious of being hauled over someone's shoulder.

I couldn't stay on my feet, then. ' _She isn't going to like this._ '

As upset as _I_ can get when she is harmed or put in danger- the amount of _fussing_ she does over my smallest injuries has always flustered me. She does much the same with the others but I am the only one injured among the group and it will be especially obvious.

' _Varric will have a grand time teasing me over this._ '

"What happened?!" Her voice breaches the darkness.

"He took a blow meant for me." The gruff elf's voice is close and reverberating through me. Ah, so Fenris is carrying me, then. We must look a sight. "They had…Red Lyrium."

"I'm assuming he didn't like the idea of what would happen if theirs interacted with yours." Varric's voice and crunching bootsteps.

Cool fingertips on my face. I try to blink open my eyes, but can only manage a flutter of my lashes. I'm able to sigh, but not speak.

Her voice is soft and quiet as she sighs back and presses a kiss to my temple. " _You know you do not need to keep demonstrating how awesome you are, right? I already know._ " Her lips burn where they touch me. I am too cold when she pulls away.

A soft huff of laughter escapes me, as much as it hurts.

"Wait…did we just bring the Herald's lover back to camp, half-unconscious and bleeding?" The Champion's voice is low and further away, I doubt Nik can hear him.

"Kinda." Varric replies.

And then the Champion curses. "Helluva first impression."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10552510/chapters/23307916
> 
> My new OC/Reyes Fic. Don't read if you don't wanna be spoilered. It's a modern girl in Andromeda so she knows shit.


	102. Solas POV

I was correct about the fussing- though it did not solely center around _me_ , I was relieved to see when I finally woke.

They had me on one of the carts as we transported the elves back to Skyhold. She sat inside with three of the more thin, sickly elves and kept feeding them as we rode. She'd brought along an entirely too-large basket filled with loaves of bread, cheese and those apple pastries she's been trying to get right for the past week.

They were delicious to begin with but she kept insisting they needed improvement. Now they look like small, perfectly palm-sized coins with artful designs cut out of the tops. Like pies more than anything.

She had them eat slowly through the trip, then made soup with whatever meat they were able to give her when we set up camp that night. She didn't wish to push the horses on the carts too hard. They were carrying double their usual weight-- as half the Aravels had been sabotaged. We would have to send someone to repair and retrieve them. She melted the cheese she had with a bowl that she set _inside_ the soup held by a handle. She pulled it out when it was liquid and ripped apart one of the loaves of bread.

She called it 'pretzel bread' and insisted we dip it in the cheese.

When asked why she was keeping the elves from eating their fill- she gave the Champion an incredulous look and- ( _They look half-starved! You can't just eat and eat when you haven't been- you have to take it slow or you'll get sick and throw up all the food!_ )

After that, no one felt much like questioning her for her odd behavior, so everyone simply took the bread, dipped it and then exclaimed at the odd flavor. It was earthy, salty and somewhat…sweet. The cheese added an extra dimension to the flavor that I appreciate more than the soup she makes for the thin elves to eat. I've never much liked meats that haven't been sweetened with honey…

We are back in Skyhold now, and her fussing is less obvious within the confines of the rotunda. But it is still obvious to _me_ that she is anxious and the way she presses against my arm to read from the same tome as I- or slips her fingertips through mine…

It has been a very long time since anyone even _wanted_ to touch me. At least, like this.

There have been the odd grabby noble since waking in Thedas- but that was an insistent, possessive touch. Someone attempting to own me through touch alone. This is…not anything like that.

It is more like the way the freed slaves would caress my arms and legs as I walked by. Or how my fa-…how the Pantheon would reach out and squeeze my shoulder or wrap an arm around my waist and squeeze until my ribs hurt.

' _Don't think about them. They are gone._ '

Someone always used to be touching me. At times I found it to be stifling. I would never have imagined I would miss it so much. When I came to Thedas, when I woke…no one touched me unless they had a mind to take something from me.

Her fingertips seem to burn where they touch. My arm, my hands, my waist when she curls around me on the couch- my shoulder where her chin sits. It is scalding and altogether frightening. I cannot ask her to let go, because I do not want her to. Even with the fear- I feel the calm.

The contentment. So when she sits with me, I lean in closer, kiss her temple and rest my face in her hair, breathing her in. I grasp her fingertips tighter when she threads them with mine.

And of course when she holds court- or her own version of it, listening to grievances- I stand to the right and behind her throne. Not touching but close, so close.

( _I can get you a seat, you know._ ) She always glances back and gives me a narrow-eyed stare. ( _Part of the reason I got rid of the raised stepped dais was so I'd be on even level with everyone else._ ) I remember simply answering with a quirked brow and a smirk that made her roll her eyes at me. Muttering about my 'smirky face' once again.

Eating meals- we sit together in the room adjacent to the War Room with the rest of the Inner Circle. She is less keen to hide the way she brushes my arm with her fingertips there. Less likely to avoid leaning her head on my shoulder.

Every time, she pulls away when I stiffen. Either looking accepting or rolling her eyes. At me because she thinks I'm overreacting or herself for forgetting, either is possible. The latter is more likely. She does not push my boundaries on purpose. She is not the type.

She feels safe with them and assumes I do as well, or simply forgets that I do not.

I don't want anyone to know more than they already do. Though I suppose I'm a bit late to keep it a secret.

"So." Dorian is sitting in the Rotunda with me now. We have been going over the books he found- attempting to discredit Corypheus to the nobles in Tevinter.

It is incredibly stupid but it may in fact work. Show them their leader is no better than the people they are oppressing and prosecuting and their faith in him will fall slack. We hope.

"So?" He is beginning a discussion about something he considers personal or he'd already be rambling. That is simply how he speaks. But personal discussions pause him. Interesting.

"Why do you hide?" He asks, nonchalant- eyes flicking up to meet mine. "With Nik, I mean. You never seem to allow any personal affection in public. She's drifted off to tend to the elves that have just arrive to give you space, I think. But I don't think you want space." He tilts his head and narrows his eyes.

My heart is thudding hard enough I can taste it on my tongue. ' _Ah, that is why she suddenly left._ ' She explained her reason for going, of course- but it seemed an awkward declaration at the time.

"I think you're being ridiculous and attempting to protect her from what people will say," he scoffs. "As if someone who would say such things could injure her."

"The nobles of Orlais are crafty and cold," I respond with a flat stare. "They could use this against her."

"Absolutely they could. But who cares?" He tosses his hands up and huffs at my expression. "Solas…I don't know if you're quite to the point of being 'in love' but anyone can see you both care deeply about each other." He's tired now, drooping over his lap in an exaggerated manner.

I would roll my eyes if I weren't so occupied with casting ice on my skin to keep my face from turning pink. "What is the point of this conversation, Dorian? I know that." I _never_ had this problem before waking in Thedas. Why is it only _her_ that can turn me red at a moments notice? Talking about her, being around her, being _touched_ or _glanced at_ by her?

"Do you? Because you're behaving as though she or you are a passing fancy of the other." He gestures as he speaks with tight lips. "The only thing you need do, is prove you're in your position for a reason. Stop stepping back and allowing her to take credit for the things you do- you know she hates that- and step _up_ instead."

"I can't," I snap. It would be impossible to explain _why_ …

Because I'm not all that certain myself anymore, why I cannot. And that is dangerous.


	103. Chapter 103

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10564191/chapters/23339883
> 
> Updating again just so I can give you guys the link to my new Jaalmance fic. Take the Initiative.

"I can't believe they forgot we have a whole room we don't use anything for except to eat. We can eat in our offices or the Great Hall." I babble as I help move the stuff out of the room adjacent to the war room. "This is why people need to _tell me_ things."

"You do seem more on top of these matters." Fenris says casually as he carries a huge-ass trunk out of the room over his shoulder. I might stare a little, it's just so- how do you _not_?

"I think they were worried about your reaction to…eh…" Merrill glances around the room. "You know. But you didn't even say anything when you saw him! He really should have just told you. Where are they sleeping, anyway?"

"He and Hawke are sleeping on one of the battlements cause I figured…they could use some privacy and they wouldn't mind camping out." I sigh and roll my shoulders. "And yeah, I dunno why Varric didn't just tell me."

Anders was there when they carried Solas into camp, limp and hung over Fenris's shoulder like a deer carcass. God, I was terrified. My emotions came back _just_ to fuck me up. I've been smothering him with attention since we got back and I think he's getting sick of it, so I had to find something else to do.

So, I moved the elves inside from the aravels out in the snow. Like, seriously? We could make room for all the visiting nobles who suddenly want to see my fortress but not for our actual refugees? Fuck that. Josephine does her best but she doesn't think like a poor person. Even at her family's poorest, they were nobility and remembered being nobility.

Her first priority is the Inquisition's image and presenting the best front to people who can fund us, and shit like that. And that's awesome. But that's why I need to be told things, cause _my_ first priority is always going to be people. People's comfort, people's rights, people's safety.

"I heard you speaking Elvhen to Solas." Merrill says.

I pause in my picking through a trunk and look over my shoulder at her. "Yes?"

"There were…more words than we know." She says hesitantly.

"Sure, I'll teach you." I answer the unspoken question. "I'd ask Solas to, but…" Yeah, his track record with the Dalish isn't great. One anecdote about the Dalish that reminds him how far they've 'fallen' and he'll get all melancholy and snappish and Merrill doesn't deserve that. "He's kinda busy and doesn't usually have much patience for people who aren't me."

He doesn't even have much patience for _me_ , I'm just unruffleable when I wanna be.

"Oh. I…yes, thank you!" She walks over to help me sort the trunk filled with silks and bits of furniture for…patching? Building? I dunno. "When can we get started?"

In answer, I turn and point to the floor. "Floor _._ " I say it in common, then Elvhen. " _Floor._ "

She blinks big eyes at me and repeats.

I point up at the ceiling and say it in common, then Elvhen again. " _Ceiling_."

All afternoon is spent with me pointing at things and having her repeat the words to me. After a while I ask her to put all the words into sentences and then I tell her to write down how she thinks they're spelled and I'll correct her spelling if it's off.

Solas has been teaching me to write in Elvhen, so I'll be able to do that much at least.

Merrill is practically glowing every time we turn around and I point to a new thing. She knows enough to hold a conversation with her clan about hunting and humans and magic and things like that- but these small, mundane things mean so much more. Because it's something she's reclaiming. Something she thought was lost.

"How do you know so much Elvhen?" She eventually asks. "I know Solas taught you, but how did _he_ learn it?"

Solas doesn't want anyone knowing who he is, of course- that he's an ancient. "The Fade and Spirits have a lot of information for you to delve into if you know how to traverse it and talk to them." Is my non-answer dodge. "He watched a lot of memories. I've seen some, myself…and…oh."

I pause and look at her. "Is one of the reasons you decided to come here, because Varric told you about… _them?_ "

"Them?" She looks confused for all of two seconds, and then she's blinking wide eyes at me. "Wait. _Them_. The two? That he said you found? I thought he was joking!"

And that's how I was bullied and pushed and prodded into promising to introduce Merrill to Islanil and Nanin.

I had a condition. She's a mage, so she's more familiar with her soul, and using it to reach across the Veil into the Fade to use magic. So I told her she had to learn how to make her soul pop out before I'd introduce her to them.

She took to it so fast it bowled me over, just a little. I mean, it took me months in my own world to even sit still long enough to do it the first time. Then I had to keep practicing until I could let it out at odd intervals during the day without stopping and sitting somehwere quiet.

When it was loud, when it was hectic, when it was still and I was afraid. It took months and then months more. But she…just does it.

Easily. In one afternoon. It's…

"I'm a little jealous of you and that makes me feel awful." I tell her as we stand from the floor after I've gotten her to release her soul and intermingle it with mine. Hers is still extended, so she has better endurance for keeping it out than me, too. "You're so good at this."

"Oh, that's just because I'm a mage." She says, shifting on her feet. "What you showed me isn't much different from harnessing my magic. It's just a different… _kind_ of magic, I suppose."

I gesture out of the shrine area and we walk into the Garden together.

"Yeah. I just…I've always had this thing where I compare myself to other people who are better than me at things. I know I need to stop, but it's hard." I huff in aggravation. "Everyone is good at different things. I know that. That's how society _works_. Anyway, I can't wait to introduce you and see what-"

"Herald of Andraste?" A voice calls out to me. "May I speak with you?"

It's a…chillingly familiar voice.


	104. Chapter 104

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading, see the bottom, it's important.

He's standing behind her. I can't see anything but him standing behind her.

His hands are behind him, clasped. He looks aggravated. But then he was always going to be, wasn't he?

"Herald?" She calls my attention to her for the second time.

Merrill shifts beside me and reaches out a hand to touch my arm.

It jolts me back to reality. " _Andaran Atishan._ " I say, taking a deep breath afterwards. " _Tarasyl'an Te'las_ welcomes the People. What can I do for you?" I know she wasn't here before. After my freakout and in my subsequent null-zone- I got Josephine to swear to tell me before anyone came into Skyhold and she made me a list of all new additions I _didn't_ know about. I'm in the loop now.

' _When did she get here?_ '

Her frown is spectacular. "You speak our tongue like a shiny bauble you can use to show off." Her flame red hair contrasts beautifully against her green eyes. Her dark-blue-almost-black Vallaslin dedicated to June setting both features off even more gloriously.

' _She's beautiful. And she's angry._ '

Solas is bristling and Merrill looks ready to burst out with 'Oh, it isn't like that's'.

I give Solas a glance and shake my head under the guise of cracking my neck. He subsides into stillness, but it's a stony stillness. He doesn't like this.

"I know as much of the language as I could possibly learn." I respond calmly. "I believe learning someone else's language is integral to the process of truly understanding them. Humans demand you learn and speak their language- and that's probably part of the reason why the Dalish are missing bits and pieces of their own."

She scrunches up her nose. "You speak as if you weren't one."

"I am." I respond. "I don't deny I'm the same. I just like to speak in objective terms. It's…how my brain works."

That confuses her, but she shakes her head and crosses her arms, going on with what she wants. "I am Atheneras of clan Lavellan." Her name means something…to do with Uthenera? The Fade? I can't parse it. "I have been sent to seek aid." Her tone is filled with dislike and her expression says she _really_ doesn't like it.

I don't blame her. If Clan Lavellan is in as much trouble as they were in-game…well. Going to a human organization for help would suck on many levels. But knowing you'll only be able to survive by the grace of that human organization and that they might ask _anything_ of you in exchange…

"What's wrong?" I ask, settling into my false confusion and surprise that I've had to adopt a few times. I have people keeping an eye on all of the places and families of the Inquisitor's issues- the Trevelyan issues were taken care of- trying to claim Dahlia's approval and insist they were close enough to gain favors.

The Cadash issues…well. I don't even know if a Cadash survived in this world. Adaar's military company joining up with the Inquisition is why I've suddenly got this influx of elves and Vashoth…

I didn't get any word from Wycome that Lavellan was in need. Though the agents are likely human and even more likely just don't care.

"They say you are a friend to nonhumans." She begins with. As much derision in her tone as a person could expect. "My Clan is being harassed by bandits near the human city, Wycome." She says, taking a deep breath as if to steel herself. "The Keeper sent me to request aid."

"Oh." I blink, then shrug. "Alright. I can send some Justicars-in-training and Scouts with you. We've got a lot of Dalish here, I don't think you'll have to take any humans."

There's a pause where her expression gets more and more irritated. "And?" She snaps.

I'm honestly at a loss for a moment. "We can send supplies, too…?" I think my expression is comical or something.

Solas huffs a short laugh. "She is asking what you will demand in return, I think."

Lavellan glances at him over her shoulder with narrow eyes. "I can speak for myself _sethl-_ "

I've moved before I've meant to.

She goes still as I stop before her, my nose touching her cheek. She's stuck in the middle of a movement for her blades, but my left hand is grasping her right wrist and her left is halted in its motion almost in a mirror effect. "Bigotry isn't tolerated here. Not from humans toward elves, and not from Dalish toward city elves. Which Solas is _not_. But you'd actually have to reserve judgment long enough to ask him where he's from to learn that."

She's breathing in a controlled manner, but glaring at me with heat in her eyes.

"My point is…if your people wanna join the Inquisition, you show _my people_ respect." I say, glaring right back. "I'll help you, and I'll ask nothing. Because that's what I do." I release her wrist and step back.

She rubs it, though I thought I hadn't grasped it nearly hard enough to hurt or cut of circulation. I'll have to get her a poultice for that if I was wrong. "Everyone asks something." She says darkly. "Just have out with it and get it over with."

"I. Want. Nothing. From. You." I respond. "It might be hard to resolve that in your mind, but you can ask any of the Dalish, the city elves, the Vashoth and the Dwarves."

"And what of the Humans?" She snaps. "Why do you not tell me to ask them?"

"Because humans suck ass." I respond, actually managing to shock a little jolt out of her. "We subjugate and destroy. We're awful, awful people. I'm trying to be better than that. I don't expect you to believe me. You should see for yourself." I shrug. "All I ask is that you not talk to any of my people with disrespect _aside_ from the humans. If you wanna call me and the other humans _Shem_ or whatever, I don't give a fuck. Humans have been treating your people like shit for forever. But you will _not_ attack the Elves, Vashoth or Dwarves under my protection."

I stare her down for several long moments.

Her gaze darts away from mine as she chews on that information. "That is your price? That we show respect to our own people?" She's incredulous.

"So far as I've just seen, you don't consider them your people." I reply. "I demand you show respect to _my_ people, who will be risking their lives for yours." I might snap that last bit a little. "I don't order people into these kinds of things. It's entirely voluntary. Merrill, would you want to go?"

She balks at the attention suddenly being centered on her, but stands tall and shakes her head. "I have to mind the clan, I'm their Keeper now."

"Perhaps lady Nightingale's guests will assist." Solas speaks up, finally looking like a grim statue. Hiding his feelings completely like he used to. "She has received some spontaneous visitors and would like you to meet their representative. It seems a good number of them are elves, if you would prefer to send them over the human recruits we have in Skyhold."

"Guests?" My head is spinning a little. "Surprise? She didn't know they were coming?"

"No." He responds. "They seem to be…tentatively considering working with us."

"Alright. Milady Lavellan?" I walk over to Solas and glance sideways at the Rogue.

She blinks and glances over almost like she doesn't recognize her own name. Or perhaps it's the title that confused her. "Yes?"

"Do you mind hanging out with Merrill and her clan until I can get the people together? They're relatively new to Skyhold. They arrived just a day ago and have just now settled in. You will be more comfortable with them, I think. Merrill, do you mind?"

Merrill shakes her head, wringing her hands. "I know Clan Lavellan, it will be no trouble."

' _You snapped at her. Damn it. You're not supposed to do that. You should have calmly explained the whole "divide and conquer" issue that exists. The Nobility keeping the oppressed down under them and in separate groups so they can't unify._ ' I reacted badly to an insult to Solas-- that's what it was, of course. That doesn't excuse it. I need to...breathe before I act.

Lavellan deliberates for a moment. "Am I to be kept away from the other people here?"

"No. Go wherever you want." I turn on my heel, flicking my hands over my shoulder in a goodbye gesture. "Ask questions, spend time with people, whatever you need to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original version, this didn't happen. Instead this kind of clash happened later with a different character.
> 
> People's reaction to this argument, startled me then. Everyone was firmly on Nik's side, of course-- but they didn't even seem to realize Nik was calling herself out for acting like an asshole.
> 
> So I'm going to put this note here in hopes people see it and actually think about this.
> 
> Oppressed people don't have to be polite to you if you're an oppressor. They don't have to say nice things or be civil at all.
> 
> And it doesn't matter what you do for them. They still don't have to like you. Yes, Nik is doing great things and helping people but she's still HUMAN. That will matter more than anything-- because they're watching, and waiting. Waiting for her to turn into the same kind of human everyone else is. They have reason and a right to be suspicious.
> 
> Nik is upset on behalf of Solas and all the other elves that might have heard her use those slurs against them. Flat-ear, Sethlin-- words that would mean the other elves aren't good enough for the Dalish.
> 
> She doesn't give Lavellan PERMISSION to call Humans bad names either. She is making a distinction. She doesn't care if she directs all her hate at Humans, they actually deserve it. She's saying-- don't oppress the people who are just as oppressed as you are. She reacted angrily because it was Solas and she's already beating herself up over it.
> 
> Last time around everyone seemed to think the person arguing with Nik deserved the snappishness but they really didn't. When you've been put down and treated badly for so long-- when you've seen your people treated that way by other people, it's only natural you react to those assholes with anger and suspicion.


	105. Chapter 105

"Why do you indulge them when they behave in such ways?" Solas asks on the way up to Leliana's rookery. We're just outside the garden, out of hearing distance of Lavellan, I pray.

"It isn't indulgence, it's deserved." I respond. "Humanity fucked the elves over, even discounting the false history of Tevinter conquering Elvhenan." Islanil and Nanin were quick to dispute that whole mess. "Instead of helping them, we enslaved them. We kicked them and stomped on them and treated them like less than dirt. I don't blame the Dalish for being suspicious or hating humanity. They should. They have reason."

A hand grasps my elbow to halt me, "Nik…"

"Don't." I don't turn around and I don't glance back at him. "I came to terms with this a long time ago. And I know you've had history with the Dalish- but did you actually tell them who you were and try to prove it to them? Or did you make up that bull about seeing it all in the Fade?" I'm muttering the last part, as this area just outside the Rotunda doesn't echo and keeps the noise _down_ actually- making it hard to eavesdrop from outside. I think Solas put up wards against eavesdroppers.

"What does that have to do-" He jolts back in surprise when I whip around.

I glare at him and breathe until my face finally relaxes. "You can't lie to someone and then be surprised when they don't believe you and refuse to trust you. If you had just come out with who you were- proved it, and I know you _could-_ " So much of my love for the character of Solas was wrapped up in confusion. "You could've helped them. So much. But you chose to lie and hide and leave them to their own devices."

"So I should have risked my life and my freedom for the Dalish?" He asks, with that scorn I haven't heard in…so long.

I step back, eyes glossing with tears. "You were willing to do that for the Elvhen, weren't you? The Elves of Thedas are just as much your people as the people of Tevinter are mine." I take a deep breath and make an effort to beat back the tears and wrestle my emotions back into control. "I don't disown my people because they're doing wrong, or because they're ignorant. I take them in, teach them differently and the ones who insist upon hurting people- I put them away, or I kill them."

He stares at me with a mixture of irritation and something that curls the edge of his mouth up in a moue of regret or disgust…something like that. "Why should I? Why should any of us? When they spit on our legacy and refuse to see the truth?"

"Because it's the right thing to do, and I can't believe I even had to say that to you." My heart is aching and my eyes feel like they're spilling over with tears. I speak as calmly as I can with them dripping over my face and down my throat. "The fact is, you could've united them. You and these other Ancients. Islanil and Nanin are no better. Sure, you might not have done much, but you might also have changed everything. You just…didn't even _try_."

I'm gasping and pressing a palm to my chest by the end of it. "Shit, not right now. Fuck off."

The mark pulses and I can feel the Veil pressing around me like a lover's embrace. Holding me tightly and stroking up and down my back with phantom fingertips. A whisper in my ear. " **Give him the same consideration you give to Dorian. He may not deserve your forgiveness or your help, but you can't treat him any less or you will hate yourself. Know us and love us, accept me and accept him.** "

And then the sensation is gone and Solas is cornering me against the wall while he holds tight to my left hand, his magic frantically pulling the energy back inside. But he didn't need to.

I step away and shake him off, sighing as the energy goes back inside of its own volition. "He just wanted to say something."

"What did he say?" His hand is outstretched toward me, brow furrowed and lips parted.

It's too soon, and I don't care. He needs to know why it injures me so much when he talks like this. Why I'm so freaked by his behavior, why it matters _more_ that he tries…as hard as I do. Even if he fucks up, that he _tries…_

When he was so willing to try for the Elvhen. Willing to die for them. But not the elves of Thedas? He needs to know why this fucks me up.

"He had good advice." I respond and turn to corner _him_ against the wall now.

He doesn't stop me, but his eyes widen and his hands grasp my shoulders like he thinks he should.

He grips harder when I lean up and cover his mouth with mine.

It's a short, intense kiss with more teeth dragging across lips than anything else. Biting, nipping and sucking harshly when one or the other of us catches the other's lip or tongue in their mouth. It's angrier and more desperate than I meant it to be.

By the time I pull away, we're both flushed and breathing hard and his eyes are a little bit bright and wild as I gaze into them. " _Ar lath ma, Vhenan'ara._ " I say with reddened, swollen lips.

And then I release him and walk out into the Rotunda. Leaving him wide-eyed, breathless and probably really fuckin' confused. Well good. I can still remember the way he almost walked away from my Lavellan. How she pulled him back with the smallest touch and finally allowed himself to just…let go.

And then he walked away with a declaration of love and that was it. It was like…I love you, and now I'm doomed. It was both heartwarming and insulting at the same time.

I walk up the steps toward the rookery quickly and with purpose. A quick swipe of my sleeve over my eyes to make sure there aren't any tears left over- a quick run of my hands over my hair to smooth it all down-

_Long, graceful fingertips running through my hair-_

' _Shut up. I don't wanna think about it right now._ ' I mean, I just fucking declared my love. I just screwed myself if he doesn't take it well. It was too soon. ' _Stop freaking out, you don't know that._ '

"Herald!" Leliana calls to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "I would like you to meet-"

"Hello, your Holiness." A suave, Antivan accent greets me. Gliding over the space between us, hood over his golden blonde hair. Whiskey-warm eyes glittering at me from underneath the shadow of it. "The Ex-Crows of house Arainai greet you."

I stop breathing for a minute, I won't lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, let the screaming and bouncing and hyperventilating commence.


	106. Cole POV, Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard. Just a half-chapter and Cole just...I can't even...
> 
> How do you write from the perspective of a spirit without using pictures and colors to communicate meaning!?

Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch-

Too many voices if I focus, but I can't stop focusing or they will be quiet. I don't want them to be quiet. Don't be quiet-

_silenceIhatethesilence-_

Oh. No, no. Thisisbad. Why doesshedo this?

Nothisis good. Focuson Solas…

That's better.

"Why are you afraid?" I have to ask the question, though I know the answer. He needs to say it aloud. They all do.

Solas jumps and turns to face me, swallowing hard. Body twitching into stillness, fingertips grasping at his sleeves and then relaxing as if they never clenched- eyes roiling with storm clouds that refuse to be tamed-

"Cole." Breathless and bashful, blushing. "I…would rather not discuss it."

"I would rather you did." I say. Be assertive, tell people what you want- people talk when you do that. People you know. "I want to know."

"You already do." He says, shaking his head. Ears flickering here and there, trying to listen to hear her voiceherlaughherlove- "I know it is wrong, you do not have to bring me to that realization."

Order your thoughts. Say it right, get it right.

He is staring at me, I've paused too long, has it been seconds or minutes? "You. Are….an. Idiot." I say, finally.

He is wide-eyed and then narrow-eyed. "Why?"

"It's only wrong because you make it wrong. Because you think they're not enough, that the world is torn and tortured and darkness filled with less than demons." I say, then pause to gather my thoughts. "You know what you could do to make it right. If you don't, you…are an idiot. Because you should know better."

* * *

 

Solas POV

I am facing the greatest crisis of thought I have ever experienced and on top of it all, I am speaking to a spirit of Compassion with an…opinion. Not simply attempting to help me process my own, but offering one that is…his.

Cole is no longer simply compassion and that is…troubling.

"It is a more complex problem than-" I attempt to explain myself, but Cole cuts me off.

"No." He says simply. Then sighs as if in aggravation. He's emoting and it's all too sudden. "There is no problem. She's going to fix it all. Even the things you…" His lips press together. "I can't tell you!" He huffs and reaches up under his hat to curl his fingers in his hair. "Do you trust me, Solas?"

"I am not certain anymore, Cole." I respond, honestly. "You are becoming more and more human by the day."

"No matter how mortal or solid I am, I am Compassion." He says, looking at me with a pointed gaze. His gaze should never be pointed. Not like that. "And I am still more spirit than Human."

The relief I feel at that is small, but there. "I trust you, as Cole. As Compassion. As you. But…you don't understand."

"I understand _everything_." He says, dropping his hands back to his sides, narrowing his eyes. "Because you do, because she does- because she _taught_ _me how_."

My fingertips twitch at my side and I have the urge to bite down on my lip to contain the denials. "What do you believe you understand?" I put a barrier around the rotunda to deter eavesdroppers the moment I entered after she left- I have no care for what I say.

"You think you have to die to make it right, but it will just make everything worse." He speaks, rushed and fervent. "You think letting them out or killing them or whatever it is you plan to do with them will make it right- but that is also wrong. They will raze the land, infect it with the blight and kill everyone on it. Nothing will grow."

I sigh sharply through my nose and begin pacing again. "What else can I do?"

"Tell her." Cole says, simply. "She is ready for it. Waiting."

"What do you mean?" I pause to stare at him. "Ready and waiting for what?"

" _Why doesn't he tell me who he is?_ " Cole's voice takes on a familiar cadence. I feel cold. " _He could be a_ _ **serial killer**_ _and I would find a way to keep him. Why does he think who he was-_ "

"Stop." I turn toward the newly repaired wall of the Rotunda and lean my forehead against it. "I do not need to hear how unconditional her love for me is. I know that. What kind of man am I that I would take advantage of someone like her to indulge myself?"

Even before she said the words I knew she loved me. The same way she loves the others, I thought at first. It was an effortless thing, for her. To love Sera, to love Dorian, to love Vivienne. All of them. To give them what she had, everything she had…and then I stole a piece of her heart that could have gone to someone that might have actually made her _happy_.

"The same kind of man Dorian and Cullen are." He replies, right behind me. "Lonely, pushing away the good things or keeping them at a distance because you don't believe them."

His hand touches my back and it is a shock. Cole doesn't offer physical comfort because he does not understand it.

He sighs, "she is happy only rarely. When she is useful, when other people smile. She is happiest when helping. And her most happiest when helping with you."

"Cole." I open my mouth to speak, then close it. Hands pressing against the wall on either side of my head. This is too much, I cannot…do this.

"When you saved Fenris, she couldn't be angry at you for risking your life because she was too proud of you." Every word he speaks breaks me, just a little more. "You didn't care that he was a different kind of elf. You didn't care that you always think you're better than the other elves of Thedas, you just stopped someone from feeling pain. From the pain of being corrupted by red Lyrium. Fenris felt so trapped and so afraid and then you came-"

There is a pause and then his voice is lyrical, more like a spirit's should be. It…relaxes me enough to let down my guard.

"Light so bright and there you were, raging and righteous and so _angry_ at everything- at the people who hurt him to begin with- that Fenris's pain was going to be repeated." The lyrical tones disappear. "You cared about him. You care about Sera. You care about Varric. They _are_ people- and you've known that for a long time. You deny it because you think your people are better. More. But these are people too. Your people's time is over, but that doesn't mean it has to be forgotten."

I am so tired.

"Then rest and let it all go." Cole squeezes my shoulder. "She can help. If you tell her, she can do more than you know. Leave it in someone else's hands. Because you know it's the right thing to do."


	107. Zevran POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehehehehe

She is slight, the Herald of Andraste. Such a grand title for such a tiny woman. Shorter than _I_ even, and I am not a _tall_ elf.

"Zevran." She nearly sighs my name, dazed and blinking heavily. Ah, her lips and her hair and the state of her clothes- she was entertaining that lover everyone is talking about, it seems. "Oh. Uh. Hello?"

' _Leliana must have told her of me._ '

I laugh and cross my arms, shifting my weight back onto my right leg. Taking on an indolent pose. "Hello, my dear. I have come to Skyhold to take your measure. I have heard of you doing great things from the lady Nightingale and would like to render assistance if it is true."

"You heard from her before you got here?" There is a sharpness to her gaze then and her body straightens out of its relaxed slouch. "Leliana!" She whines. "Are you telling the entire entourage how incompetent I am at my job?"

Leliana's giggle is music to my ears. "I send them letters, of course. I would never speak harshly of you, Herald. You have accomplished much in a short time and I thought they should know."

It has been a long while since we parted ways last and I miss…so much. Yelena's bright grin of glee when new enemies appeared, Alistair's prodding me about women and then blushing when I gave him the answers…Leliana's laughter and Morrigan's derisive snort- oh, how I miss them all. I even miss Oghren's occasional jab and Shale calling me 'painted elf'.

Even Sten's silence filled with meaning. Missing a specific type of silence was new for me.

The Herald pouts, "did you tell them about blowing myself up?"

I recall that particular missive and bark a laugh. "Ah, yes. Fourteen two-man tents ripped up and then repaired once the Herald was finished blinking at shiny things-"

"LELIANA!" Her shriek is indignant now, and she flushes. "I couldn't help that!"

She is snickering now, the Nightingale. "It was a humorous report to receive, Nik."

The Herald sighs and makes a disgusted noise, "you must all think I'm an idiot."

There is an air about the Herald. Something carefree and simple, but…a darkness in her eyes that says she knows my deepest secrets- that she can see through my soul. It is fairly unnerving. So I ignore her eyes and focus on the beautiful lashes ringed round them. "I believe you are too good to be true."

She laughs, "so does everyone." There is a sadness in her at that. But it quickly melts away in favor of something stern. "Well, if you wanna see what kind of things you'd do if you were part of us- I could give you an assignment now?"

"Oh?" I tilt my head in curiosity. It always gets the better of me. "And what would you have us do?"

"There's a Dalish clan being harassed over by Wycome. Clan Lavellan-" She says, faltering. "They need help and Dalish are mistrustful of humans. Solas said you have a lot of elves in your ranks of…ex-crows."

I hum uneasily, "indeed we do."

"Would you go and help them out for me?" She asks. "I can't send human troops and sending Inquisition forces would probably just piss off the nobles nearby enough to try and kill them all. If you're just independent contractors, not actually part of the Inquisition- then it just looks like you're elves banding together. They'll underestimate you and you'll win."

Said so simply. I reply with a dry, "I suppose it's possible."

"I've said something to offend you already?" She sighs. "What did I say?"

"It isn't what you think," the Nightingale speaks in her defense. To my surprise. "The Dalish would likely distrust any human troops we could send. And we…may not be able to trust that whoever we were to send would not…take advantage."

The Herald huffs, "I'm not keen on the idea of sending heavily armed troops to save people they'd feel like they have some kind of dominion over. I'm still trying to hammer into their skulls that people you save don't owe you anything."

"Ah. That is something else entirely, then." At the very least, I have learned that Leliana trusts her. It is no easy feat since she became the Divine's Spymaster- and now she is back to being the old Leliana to some extent. Softer, warmer. That harsh edge hasn't disappeared, but it _is_ less prominent. "Give me a map and some supplies and we will be on our way."

"Thank you," she sighs in relief and smiles warmly at me. "When you get back, you can tell me all about how you got all these ex-crows. Last I heard you were a solitary rebel." She winks and turns toward the stairs, glancing at Leliana. "Can you get him what he needs? They're in serious trouble so I'd rather they leave as soon as possible."

"As you wish, Herald." Leliana inclines her head in acquiesence.

The tiny Herald walks back down the steps as I turn to face the Nightingale.

My brow quirks of its own volition. I am _intrigued_. "How do you always know what I am thinking, dear Leliana?"

"I know you too well and it was obvious," she replies. "If she thought it too dangerous, she would go herself to retrieve them. You and your men will not be sacrificed on a whim."

"That is quite a lot of trust you are putting in one woman," I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at her. "I have seen the state of the mage and ex-templar towers. What you always wanted, yes? To free the Mages and elevate the elves?"

"She isn't my puppet," she replies. Smile curving her mouth, answering the question I dared not ask. "Nik does what she pleases and everyone else deals with the fallout. It is a lot of work…" The dark circles under her eyes are a testament to that! "But everyone who lives in Skyhold- even as it has only been three weeks…they are happy. They were happy in Haven. They were happy with her even before the Breach when she nearly ran herself into the ground to make them safe and comfortable."

Leliana's expression changes from matter-of-fact blankness to soft affection and then warm admiration in the space of a few words.

"She must be doing _something_ right, for you to speak of her so fondly. We will see for ourselves if it is truly deserved." I grin at Leliana and incline my head. "Show me where my men may pick up the supplies and we will be on our way to earn our good Herald's favor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Do you love me?


	108. Cassandra POV

We were on our way out when it happened.

… … … …

( _Herald!_ )A man rushing toward her was stopped by passing Soldiers.

Everyone is free to approach the Herald, usually. But not when in such an obvious state of distress.

( _What?_ )She turned completely away from her horse to face the man, waving off the soldiers _._ ( _What's wrong?_ )

( _My wife…_ )He paused before her and bowed his head. ( _Sh-she is…giving birth._ )

( _Our first birth in Skyhold!_ )The brilliant smile that flashes across her face seems to surprise everyone in the vicinity.( _What can I do for the mother-to-be?_ )

( _She doesn't want anyone touching her but they need to- to deliver the baby. She's in so much pain and they want to pin her down-_ ) He was distressed at the thought of it, obviously.

( _Fuck_ _ **no**_ _._ )She responded, brow furrowed. ( _Why the hell would they do that? Take me. Everybody put your stuff back, this'll take_ _ **hours**_ _in all likelihood._ )

( _You're putting off the trip to deliver a baby?_ )I ask, not actually at all surprised.

( _Hell yeah,_ ) she grinned, bright and razor-sharp. ( _Let's go._ )

… … … …

And now, here we are.

"Oh, I'm so tired." The mother holds her babe with limp arms. The father collects it when it begins to slip down her chest. "I'm sorry, I don't think…I can stay awake…"

"Sleep as much as you can, it'll help with the healing." The Herald waves to one of the healers standing off to the side of the room. "Once she's out, lay down some healing energy, but try to be as gentle as possible. Even magic-blind people can still sorta feel you jabbing magical fingertips into their wounds- and I don't know that she _is._ Be careful and don't touch her without permission."

The babe whimpers and its father caresses its face. "Hello, precious thing." His eyes glimmer with tears and pride as he beholds the small, red, swaddled thing in his arms. "I am your father."

"What are you going to name her?" The Herald inquires.

' _A girl, then._ ' I did not see and no one has said since she was born.

"Her mother wanted to name her after you, but I didn't think you'd like that." The Father smiles softly at his daughter, not looking away.

"Well, I wouldn't mind, but…you should name her something that means something to _you_ guys." Nik shifts uneasily and bites her lip.

"You _do_ mean something to us," He responds. "Would you name her? I know you have done so before."

The mention of Viva turns the Herald pale. Even so long after her mother died and she is still discomfited. We gave the babe to her grandparents, as I recall.

"Uh…I mean, I could. But don't you think her mother wants to, really?" She fidgets with her fingers in her sleeves.

"If it's her mother, then she'll be named after you." He is amused by her discomfort, "it is likely I will not be able to talk her out of it."

Nik sighs and cracks her neck, "I guess something like…"

There is a tension in the air as she considers carefully.

Her lips quirk up to one side, "Oriana?"

"That is a beautiful name, but it sounds...Orlesian?" He asks warily.

"It can be," she shrugs. "You could just call her Ana if you're worried about her full name being a problem, too."

"That is a wonderful idea," he smiles. "I will speak to her mother and see if she likes it."

"Great." Nik shifts uncertainly. "Well…I have to go and do stuff, but I'll be back in a couple weeks and I'll check in again."

"We appreciate it, Herald." He responds with solemn gratefulness.

Nik gestures at me with a shift of her head and I follow her out of their home.

"Is this gonna be a thing?" She asks as we walk down the cobbled path. "People letting me name their babies?"

"Would it bother you?" I have rarely seen her this uncomfortable.

"It's just…I mean. I love children and all, but it feels an awful lot like they're trying to get into 'divine blessing' territory." She bites her lip again.

"People believe you are divine and you allow them to believe as they will," I remind her. "If you do not wish to accommodate them, you can simply say no."

"No, I really can't." She sighs. "It doesn't hurt or inconvenience me to do it. Doesn't even really make me that uncomfortable." Her shoulders roll and she shakes her head. "I just don't like the thought that I might be the face they think of if something bad happens to the kid and…"

My hand lands on her shoulder and I squeeze softly. "You do what must be done to protect the people and make them happy. You cannot control how they will feel about tragedy, this you have told all of us."

She looks up at me and smiles, "You're my center, Cass. Thanks."

I nod and ignore the way my skin pinks, "I will always endeavor to keep you grounded, Herald. You are the best hope for the future of the Inquisition."

"I…know." She looks down and her hand flickers with light as she stares at it.

I swivel in front of her, grasping her wrist, "not because of this, no." I smile at her when she blinks and stares at me quizzically. "At first, I thought the mark was most important. But it soon became apparent, that even without it, you may have found a way to fix the Breach."

She laughs suddenly, nervously and incredulous. "What? No, I…no, that would've been impossible."

"Perhaps, perhaps not." I say, grasping both her shoulders now to stare into her eyes. "You are…the most moral person I have ever met. I know you want to do differently sometimes and you choose not to."

She stills in my grasp, eyes wide.

"Yes. I know you would rather kill those men." I sigh and squeeze her shoulders. "To be honest, I would prefer that as well."

"B-…but I…I mean, that's not right, though." She grimaces as she speaks.

"No. But it is how we feel." I smile again, a bit grimly. "They harm our women, and we hurt them. But we also give them a chance to change. It is what the Maker would want."

Her head drops. "I don't care what the Maker wants, Cass."

"I know. And all the better," I can feel my face softening into something relaxed and affectionate. "You have no fear of the divine. You do good because you _can_. Not because you _must_."

"And the Maker wants me to castrate rapists, then cast them out into the wilderness?" She looks up with a quirked brow and a rakish grin.

"I believe he would not object," I respond. "And I do believe he sent you to us."

Her mouth opens.

"And you cannot say it is not true, because it is _my_ belief." I tell her, with some relish.

She pouts. "You're using religious freedom against me. Drat, I knew that was gonna come back to bite me in the ass."

My laughter is abrupt and unexpected, but welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra is in work-mode through the whole chapter. I dunno why everything came out so stripped bare so I'mma just blame her. lol


	109. Chapter 109

We've been stomping through swamp water for a grand total of three days now, and all the rifts are closed. Thank the Maker.

…

Hey, I did it!

"You are _smiling_." Dorian gripes. "What is there to smile about?"

"I'm adventuring with my best friends?" I ask.

"You imply we're all only friends," Dorian waggles his eyebrows and I smack him in the side with my closed fist, glancing ahead.

Solas looks over his shoulder at us and smirks.

I scoff and stick my tongue out at him. ' _Smirky-faced bastard._ '

His smirk just gets wider as he faces front again.

Solas and Cassandra have taken point for this whole area, mostly because they both have better magic-sensing skills than me- and Dorian likes to hang back and watch to see if they've found solid ground before moving forward.

Dorian doesn't like splashing icky swamp water all over his pretty armor.

"Herald, Lady Seeker!" A Scout comes rushing up to us from the camp we were heading toward. After sealing that last rift, we figured we could take a day off before traveling anywhere else.

Or well, Solas wanted us to take a day off to make sure my insides didn't get ripped open too much. Guess that's off.

"What's up?" I call out to her. "Trouble?"

"Some of our scouts have been taken by Avvar," She says in a rushed voice. "They sent word to us that they'll only give them back if the Herald goes to fight-"

"Absolutely not!" Cassandra turns to look at me, stern expression unwavering in the face of my confusion. "You are _not_ going."

I blink, "I…what? Why wouldn't I go?" She never tried to stop me in-game. The fuck is _this_ shit?

"We are not launching an assault on a group of Avvar," she responds. "We have good relations with them so far, we cannot afford to antagonize them."

"I don't think they'll hold it against us if we're rescuing our people." I say slowly, narrowing my eyes at her.

"That is not all. Whoever you take may die in the attempt. We could lose more scouts and soldiers than they have." She says, putting her hands on her hips. "You cannot use Inquisition resources for this. The Commander likely feels the same."

"My lady," the Scout is frantic. "The Nightingale has forbidden us to help you-my brother is one of them-"

"So quit," I shrug. "Can't do anything to you for quitting. Desertion is only a thing in the middle of missions now, and it's not punishable by death anymore."

She clenches her hands together, "this is the only thing I've ever wanted to do. I want to be here. I don't want to leave."

"Technically the Justicar order is not part of the Inquisition." Solas speaks and we all look over to catch sight of him, leaning on a tree. "You may find a few new followers for the order, here."

'The order' has always referred to Templars or Seekers. He says it as if it's only ever belonged to the Justicars.

"I will not stand for it, the Herald is too important to waste-" Cassandra goes silent when I pull my cloak off over my head and toss it to the ground at her feet.

"Herald, _right here_. I could split the Inquisition in _half_ , if I wanted." I tell her, gesturing animatedly as I speak. "Fuck, who am I kidding, they'd follow _me_ and leave you, Cullen and Leliana to fend for yourselves if I asked. I've leveraged my power to help others and I've used it to create a unique atmosphere for the people of the Inquisition. I'm already in-fucking-charge and if you don't like it, you can kiss my ass. Even if I don't have the title, I've got the people and you can't do shit about it."

I can hear the silence as I speak, as everyone just kinda…stares at me. It's always the same. No matter how many times people see me get really truly upset, really angry or despaired- they're always still surprised by it.

"So I'm asking for volunteers to join me as members of the Justicar order and I'm getting the scouts back and if ya'll wanna lock me up afterwards- you're gonna have to go through the _entire_ Inquisition to do so." I cross my arms and squeeze as hard as I can without bleeding myself. "An organization- a _nation_ is nothing without its people and they _all_ matter. I am not gonna be like the rest of these asshole kings and empresses, sending their people to die against hopeless odds or leaving them in horrible situations because they can't be bothered to get off their ass." My teeth are almost grinding. "There are horrible decisions to be made in wartimes and you can't save everyone, but we _can_ do _this_."

"I can show you where they are, your holiness." The scout says and then, surprisingly- takes off her own hooded cloak and throws it to the ground. "I will meet you at the rise of the next hill with whoever I can find." Her hair is a light ginger-brown and her face is freckled.

And then she's walking off and I'm just too pissed to stay still. So I stalk off in the direction the Scout had gestured and flick a wave over my shoulder. "See you around, Seeker."

* * *

 

Solas POV

I do not know what Cassandra was thinking.

The one way to be certain Nik will do something is to attempt to keep her from doing it. She is not petty enough to put herself in danger to make a point, but it will simply spur her on when she is _already_ determined.

The speech she gesticulated at Cassandra was surprising. The way Nik sees herself, I thought perhaps she didn't know the effect she had on the common people of the Inquisition. Then again, that was a personal issue and this is…more than that.

The six scouts and four soldiers that meet us on the hill are all grim-faced and determined. Not a single one of them seems hesitant, and they have shucked all their hoods, cloaks and insignias that might tie them to the Inquisition.

The look on her face when the scout tossed her cloak to the ground in imitation of her was filled with surprise. Nik did not intend to send that particular message, but that is what she did. When she looked at the assembled Justicar recruits, she seemed puzzled but pleased with them.

"Is this the only way you're ever going to grow your order?" Dorian questions her from the front of the procession.

I am at the back, but I can hear them perfectly, as she well knows. She seems to have estimated and memorized the range I can hear in. Amusing.

"What?" She asks, her steps faltering but continuing. "You mean in situations like this?"

"Through rebellion and escaping oppression and such," he chuckles. "The Justicars are going to get a bad reputation." Sounding so _pleased_ with the idea, it curls my lips into a smirk that would make Nik pout at me.

She scoffs, "this is the only way I'll _ever_ accept new recruits. I'll have to forge them through fire as it is- but knowing who'd be willing to lay down their lives for their comrades because it's _right_ not to leave them to die if you can save them? That's how I'll know who's best suited to the Justicar's combat role."

"And you aren't worried at all that they might rebel against _you_?" He questions.

Her laugh is bright and carefree, "if they need to do that, then I _deserve_ it."

She is perplexing still to this day, but I cannot deny the pleasant nature of it. I would spend decades unraveling her motivations and opinions if I could. As it is, with her mortal lifespan, as soon as I got through all of that, she would be gone.

I pause on the path and watch the new Justicar recruits march forward with determination, breathing deeply to push away the needle-pricks in my chest. ' _I don't need forever…but I would have liked to have had it._ '


	110. Dorian POV

We lost only _one_ person.

It was one too many for Nik, of course.

They were impaled by one of the Avvar's giant swords and lie bleeding out as the fight went on. I believe the only reason they survived to the end of it was because Solas kept throwing down healing spells over anyone even remotely alive.

When he was finally slammed into the wall by the idiot we'd come here for- Nik glowed bright green.

The whole hallway of the ruins erupted in light and then she was collapsed on the floor and there was a burnt-statue of the Avvar leader.

Without their leader, the other Avvar were easy to subdue. Nik wanted us to avoid killing as many of them as possible, to send them back to their clan- wherever they are.

I'm not the healer Solas is, but I was able to ascertain the both of them were more or less fine. Solas would wake with a throbbing headache and Nik would likely be sore for days- perhaps even in a great deal of pain, but for the moment she was unconscious and I assumed my time would be better spent on the dying man on the floor of the ruins.

I lost him after Nik woke and was reassured that she and Solas were fine. So of course his final moments were spent with his head in her lap as she stroked his hair and looked down at him with a vacant expression. His eyes were closed at that point, slipping into unconsciousness before death, so he didn't see the absence of self in her at that moment.

"Nobody would've died if I could've brought a whole group of soldiers and scouts or something." Nik stares hollowly out over a small cliffside as I approach. "I could've made a better plan, I could've-"

"No point in agonizing over it now. You know what you'll do next time." Telling her not to worry about 'what if's' doesn't work, I've found. You must tell her it will only hinder her, or she'll just keep doing it.

"Cullen, Cassandra and Leliana said no for a reason, but I can't figure out what that reason is." She's glowering at the horizon. "And Solas keeps trying to fuss at me, but I'm not in the mood. I'm gonna end up snapping at him and neither of us needs that."

"I don't believe you can call it fussing if you are actually in pain." I say with a curl to one side of my mouth. Not quite amused. "I believe if you simply let him do as he wishes and allow it to simply be what it is, you'll feel better."

"Be what it is?" She asks, glancing at me quizzically.

"His need to reassure himself that you are not dead," I tell her with some degree of solemnity. "As it is, _I_ wanted to squeeze you till you popped afterwards- and I am not your beau."

Her expression freezes and then she glances away from me, "I'm not good company when things like this happen."

"I'm certain he understands what emotional distress does to you," I reach out and stroke her hair. "Better than the rest of us, even. As you so often seem to reach out to each other's souls."

She leans into my side and curls into a ball, "I'm awful when I'm like this. I don't want to snap at him or cry all over him again…"

"We cry and snap at you, and you welcome it. Why do you think it's different the other way around?" I smile at the way she tightens her arms around her knees and sighs. "It isn't. You know it isn't. Let us do for you, what you do for us."

"Why would they do this, Dorian?" She leans away enough to look up into my eyes. "They usually just go along with me. I mean, I was surprised they did- at first. But then it just made sense. Cullen, Cassandra and Leliana aren't leaders. They can lead men, but not a whole Organization…they needed me and my take-charge attitude."

How surprising that she knows that. "I didn't think you thought much of your own efforts."

"I don't." She replies. "I still think it's not enough- but that doesn't mean I'm blind to the effect I'm having on people as an icon."

Ah. This isn't about _her_ then, but what people see when they look at her. To her it is completely different, I'm sure. "So? Why do you think they stood their ground now?"

"I don't know. Something's rotten in the state of Denmark," she says- lips perking up at my confusion. "Something doesn't add up. Doing it this way, knowing me- they made it _more_ dangerous, not less. They could've just made a calculated mistake…but if Leliana was involved then that doesn't make sense either."

"Perhaps Leliana thought without their support you might think twice?" I don't even believe what I'm saying, but the alternative…

"They were attempting to manipulate me in some way," she says. "Whether it was to do it or not to do it or something else I can't see…I dunno. We're heading back as soon as everything is wrapped up here, so I'll find out for myself soon enough."

"Until then, I wanted to ask you something…" I don't want to put further pressure on her, but no one else is going to inform her, which only weakens her ability to stay out of trouble. She can stumble into the damnedest things. "Are you aware there are people protesting in Ferelden? Against us?"

She blinks and turns her head to stare at me for a moment. "Protesting."

"Yes," I nod my head and sigh. "It's finally gotten out that you're…rehabilitating Tranquil mages. I believe Hawke's paramour had something to do with it, actually."

She snorts, "Anders…" There's too much amusement in that. "Yeah, probably. So what, people are pissed off I'm revoking Tranquility?"

"Mostly they're upset you seem to be empowering the mages…there have been rumors, you see." How to reveal this delicately? "That you are…planning to build an army."

She stares at me still, looking puzzled. "Well yeah."

"Not just for Corypheus. But…well. They seem to be under the impression you want to take over Ferelden," I say. "The whole of Thedas, really."

Her expression doesn't change for a long moment, and then she's sighing. " _God…_ of course they are."


	111. Solas POV

"What is this?" Her lips stay parted after she asks, eyes still agape.

I am still wading through the satisfaction of finally being allowed back inside her soul-space. She avoided me after the fight in the ruins when she wasn't fussing over my injuries and it was…confusing.

"I do not know what it used to be, but now it is a ruin." I respond.

She came back to camp with Dorian yesterday and suddenly she wasn't keeping me out any longer. I left things at that, simply surrounding her with myself and waiting for her to speak with me. She still has not…but I suppose that is her usual habit to wait for others to come to her. Her patience is…

In this case it is maddening.

"Look at all the flowers," she walks through the crumbling stone halls and caresses the petals of roses and wildflowers alike. "Why are they growing so well here? All over the place…"

"I heard about this place from the villagers," I explain. "Apparently they all bring seeds and plant them around the area whenever they can. A holdover from an old ritual to appease a spirit of nature, I would suppose."

She laughs and turns to look back at me. "You think they'd let us set up a camp near here? Probably be a nice place to sleep with the smell of the flowers and all."

"I am quite certain the villagers in the Crossroads will allow you to do whatever you like." I answer.

She squirms and turns back around, eyes dropping and lips pressing into a thin line. "Ugh."

"You know you have this influence, you've spoken of it." I remind her, walking closer. "Why does it upset you?"

"I have to have influence to help people, that doesn't mean I have to like it." She gripes and begins to pace. Her energy is lighting up with agitation and anxiety. "What if I screw it all up? What if I tell them to do something or ask for something and it ends up going totally wrong? How do you even come back from something like that…?"

Her pacing is paused when I stand in her path and she looks up with a sheepish expression. "I brought you here to _relax,_ " I remind her.

Her head dips and she sighs, "I don't know if that's possible."

"Hm," I lift my hands to thread through her hair, untying the leather strip that's keeping it loosely braided. Running my fingers through it, I tug her forward until her head is resting on my shoulder, her arms curled around my waist. My hands slowly release her hair, drifting through the brunette strands until both of my palms are pressed into the curve of her spine.

"Okay, _maybe_ this is working." She mutters, curling into my body a bit more tightly.

A hoarse chuckle escapes me, "something is bothering you but you haven't told me what. It is festering inside your mind and will until you find a solution, as always. Do you believe I could not help with that?"

Sighing and squeezing my waist with her arms, she turns her face into my throat. "People think I'm trying to take over the world."

My harsh bark of laughter surprises both of us.

She pulls back with a jerk and then glares at me with a pout, "I'm _not_!"

"No, you only intend to unite Ferelden and Orlais and then liberate the slaves of Tevinter." And those are only the plans I _know_ of. There are many things I'm certain she has only thought about- things that will become more pressing with time. That is how it always is with her plans.

"Yeah well, I don't have to be in charge once everything gets settled the way it needs to be." She responds.

She's still pouting and I see no reason _not_ to…

So I kiss her, pulling that full bottom lip in between my teeth and tugging before letting go and leaning back to look at her again. I always enjoy the way her expression changes when I kiss her. The way she relaxes and her eyes stay half-lidded for a time afterwards unless there are pressing concerns to divert her attention.

"You realize if you do all of this and then cede power, the people will be confused and everything may simply fall apart afterwards," I say with a soft tone of voice.

"That's why I'd name a successor," she shrugs, eyes still half-closed. "Not for the Inquisition, but to be head of the Justicar order, which is what we'll be turning into when Corypheus is dealt with."

"Oh?" I cannot wait to hear this.

"Just like how the Gray Wardens disappear if there's not a Blight on, the Inquisition should only exist if there's a world-ending disaster." Her hands are cupping the sides of my throat, thumbs brushing over the line of my jaw on either side, distracting me. "They're both too strong."

"And the Justicar order would be different." I dip my head to press a kiss to her left wrist, and then her right.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm basically going to set them up to be a police force with only as much power as the people give them." She's struggling to speak, the breathy note in her voice obvious. "They'll stand for nothing but the people. Protecting them and their rights. But…the Inquisition and the Gray Wardens represent ideals. Freedom. Life." Her gaze darts up to mine and then away, "militaristic regimes have been built on less."

"Speaking from past experience?" I am curious about this land she comes from, more every day. Every bit of information that is given to me makes me thirsty for more.

"No. Just History…" She pauses and glances at me again, stepping out of my embrace.

I let her go, but reluctantly. "History?"

"His name was Hitler," she replies surprisingly enough. She usually refrains from details about anything. "He was a dictator and ordered the Genocide of an entire people. He didn't succeed in destroying all of them…but he got really close."

"Why?" I ask, giving her words my undivided attention- as distracting as the rest of her may be.

"People have theories." She shrugs and bites her lip. "But why doesn't matter. He called them horrible things and said they weren't people and his followers believed him- or just wanted an excuse to hurt them. A whole country worth of them. They put them in camps…where they worked them to death or just killed them. They starved them, beat them…did a lot of horrible experiments on them." Her body is swaying slightly. "And we didn't get involved for a long time. Don't ask why, the answer is...unsatisfactory."

I huff in amusement, "I suppose I shall save my breath then. That is why you hate having so much power, is it? You are afraid you will do something like that?" The notion is ridiculous.

"No. I'd kill myself first," she answers. It worries me how casually she says so. "But it worries me that people could use me like they did Andraste. To fuel their wars and their prejudice. That it would work because of how much people love me. They might forget who I actually was in favor of defending what they _think_ I am. That there could be…another person like _him_ that could show up and use me as part of their campaign to hurt people."

"A valid fear, I suppose." I tilt my head as I walk around her, coming face-to-face with her again. "But there are many people who know you personally. There would be a schism, at the very least."

She snorts and lifts her head with a sardonic smile on her lips. "That actually makes me feel better."

"That _is_ what I was going for," I respond with a smirk in return. "I found Crystal Grace sprouting here, and-"

"Where?" She immediately turns and scans the area, eyes wide again.

I chuckle and walk past her, catching her hand as I go. "This way."


	112. Hawke POV

"This is dangerous," I remind the love of my life as we walk around Skyhold with our hoods up and masks on. "Someone might recognize one or both of us…"

"Relax, love." Anders grasps my hand and intertwines our fingers. "I just want to see the mage tower. Varric said the Herald didn't want to keep them separate, but they very obviously are. I want to know what's going on."

"I could've just popped by to ask," I tell him.

"They would've known you and their answer might have been different. I want an unbiased opinion." He says, going quiet as they stop in front of the tower built into the far wall of the fortress. It has tapestries draped over the windowsills to hang in the open air- contrasting against the gray stone.

Rich blue cloth embroidered with bright orange bursts of light. "Is that supposed to represent magic, or…?"

"Let's ask," Anders walks inside, dragging me along with him.

The first person we come upon is a young girl. She has bright green hair… "What happened to your hair?" Just pops out of my mouth.

Anders huffs a laugh at me and I flush.

She blinks up at us and tilts her head, "I changed it."

"Why?" I ask.

"I wanted to," she responds.

"Ah, new blood!" A human woman in black and green robes walks up to us with a bright smile. "What's your alignment, friends?"

"Align…ment?" Anders asks with a curious tilt of his head.

She giggles a bit, "sorry sorry. I'm Dhalia Trevelyan." She holds out her hand to shake.

So we release our grip on each other and shake her hand, "We're ah…" I fumble with that bit.

"From Kirkwall," Anders is so smooth. "I'm Anthony. Do you mind explaining what an alignment is?"

"Well, do you prefer Entropic magics, Force magics…?" She leads us with a darting glance at our visible eyes.

"I'm a healer and he's good with lightning." Anders gestures at me.

"Ah! Healers go to a different part of Skyhold." She glances between them with distress written on her face. "If you're a married couple you can live together, but if not then you'd be assigned different lodgings."

"Are the mages not allowed free movement in Skyhold?" Anders asks.

"Well yes, we're free but there are still rules." She responds with a small smile. "If you're married, then you're moved into a room that accommodates a married couple. If not, then you're in a singular room meant to only accommodate one person. If two people shared that room and got…loud…" She flushes adorably. "It would disturb everyone else. So you're allowed to go somewhere else to…but not where you might wake people up or…" She's even redder now. "You see it's a-a…consent issue!"

"A consent issue." I reply with puzzlement.

"Well, some people don't like to hear other people…do that. And they get uncomfortable." She replies, soldiering on past her mortification. "We don't want anyone to be uncomfortable or feel like they're being forced to play third party to someone else's…activities."

"Why not simply use silencing runes?" Anders asks with exasperation.

"Oh no, we can't." She shakes her head. "If someone were to be attacked in the tower, we'd want to hear the screaming."

We both stare at her for a moment. "Ah." Is my eventual response.

"That's why there's a brothel in Skyhold, you see." She says, biting her lip. "There are rooms you can use for a small fee that include the charms and protections you'd usually use in your own room. And they have special wards placed so that if someone actually needs help, it'll be tripped. I dunno how it manages to do so- maybe it can sense emotions or something." She shrugs and shakes her head. "I've gotten off track, haven't I?"

"I believe so," Anders responds with some amusement. "I want to ask…why are Healers separate from combat mages?"

"Oh, well that's for a good reason." She bites her lip. "Combat mages will need to be tended to by healers. Healers need some distance so they aren't distraught while tending. The Herald says they can still be friends, of course- they just have to spend time together while off-duty."

"Seems…logical." I say slowly. "Why are the combat mages all divided up, then?"

"Tactical advantage!" She exclaims. "On the bottom floor here are the entropy mages, like me." She holds out her hand and green smoke drifts lazily over her fingertips. "We may not kill whoever might attack the tower, but we'd weaken them and slow them down. Next level are the Force mages who'd be able to warp armor and injure whoever is attacking us, and then after that are the elemental mages of all kinds." She shrugs. "But we're not _all_ of the combat mages. And of course there's the Chef mages, the Tailor mages, the Servant mages-"

"What?" Anders is gaping, I can tell.

"Oh it's their choice," she assures him. "They like cleaning things or they just want a simple life. They're all taught simple healing and combat spells just in case they need to defend themselves, but on the whole they just clean, cook and make clothes."

"What other combat mages are there?" I ask, grasping Anders's shoulder tightly.

"The Arcane Rogues, Warriors and Archers." She replies. "They learn to wield a weapon as well as summon its shape from the Fade- oh! Are you alright?" She reaches out to steady Anders as he stumbles sideways into me.

"I think we just need to sit," I say.

"Oh, here here!" The little girl with the green hair was watching us and now points to a long chaise lounge that looks remarkably comfortable.

Dhalia and I settle Anders on the chaise and she rushes off with a promise of tea and pastries.

I glance around and blink at the sight of all the teenagers and children in the room with pink, purple, blue and gold hair. And many different combinations of colors.

Dhalia comes back with a small platter, setting it on a table in front of us. She hands Anders some tea and he inhales deeply before taking a small sip, sighing in pleasure at the flavor.

When I take a drink of my own cup, I see why. It's a sharp, clean flavor like mint- it's the perfect temperature and I love the way the flavor unfurls on the tongue! "This is delicious!"

Anders moans beside me and when I glance over in alarm, I see him nibbling on one of the pastries. "Andraste's sacred knickers," he mutters.

Dhalia laughs, "the mage Chefs have a different way of doing things than regular cooks- the Herald taught them!" She grins so brightly it's as if the sun sits in her smile.

I catch sight of one of the kids and ask, "why are the children so colorful?"

She glances aside at them with fondness, "they're still experimenting with transmogrification."

Anders puts down his mug with a slight click and leans on his thighs with his forearms, breathing very deeply. I can see tears in his eyes. So I shift closer to him as nonchalantly as possible and wrap my arm around his waist.

I'm surprised when she gets up and walks around the table to settle on the arm of the chaise to talk to Anders. "It's alright, a lot of mages get emotional when they join the Inquisition. You can let it out if you need to. You are safe here, the Herald loves you."

"She may not even know us, how could she love us?" I ask with incredulity. She has no idea we know her.

"She loves all of us. All people." She responds simply. "Everyone in the Inquisition is under her protection and wrapped in her warmth every day. She would die to protect us."

"Is that what she told you?" I ask. This sounds…off.

"No." She lifts her chin and pouts at me. "It is what she's _showed_ me."


	113. Merrill POV, Yvanna POV, Third Person POV

"I don't understand, why would you follow a _Shem_?" Lady Lavellan is questioning the other Dalish in Skyhold, the ones who've been here longer than myself and my clan. " _Shemlen_ never keep their promises." I don't blame her for her suspicion, but I've only been here for a few days and already I know that insulting the Herald to anyone in Skyhold is a bad idea.

"This one does," A Hunter says.

"We were lost without our keeper," another speaks.

"She took us in and gave us safety and purpose." A mage, a first I think. "She makes it acceptable for us, for our culture, for our religion."

"She is the Herald of _Andraste_ ," Lavellan snaps, folding her arms. "How is it she can make herself acceptable to us, who worship the Creators?"

"A lot of us _don't_ worship them anymore." One of them steps out of the group, wild curly hair and curling vines for Vallaslin. "Haven't you spoken to the Ancients yet?"

"Pah!" She spits on the ground and the Dalish shrink back except for the one she speaks to now. "Ancients? You believe that!"

"They _are_ ancients, sister." The same Dalish speaks again, "we've seen proof and heard it." What was his name? Theron?

Her lip curls in a snarl, "what _proof_? Bits of our culture stolen from us and returned with pitiful lies?"

"They don't speak common, only Elvhen." One of them says from the middle of the gaggle.

Theron nods, "and they do…unbelievable magic. The Veil still hinders them, but less than our own mages."

"They could simply be from Tevinter," she scoffs.

"No, they really couldn't." He replies, deadpan. "Meet with them, and then if you aren't a believer you can come back and argue with us some more."

"Fine. I'll speak to your damned _ancients_." She hisses. "Merrill, take me there!"

I fluster as she stalks away from our clansmen and rush after her, "w-wait, wait- I have to teach you something first!"

* * *

 

Yvanna POV

"Oh!" I fret over the hole in the wall as Messere Tethras tends to Ser Fenris. He came to see us and after being introduced by Messere Tethras, simply put his hand through the wall! It's such a big, crumbly hole!

"Calm down, elf-" Messere Tethras speaks soothingly.

"There are _slaves_ here!" He hisses, pacing in a tight circle.

"Yes, there are, but it's not what you think." Messere Tethras steps in front of Ser Fenris and looks up into his eyes with pleading. "She swiped them from Corypheus and she's still trying to…you know, rehabilitate them."

Ser Fenris clenches his fists. "Rehabilitate." He snarls. His body is tightening so much it hurts just to look at him.

"Well, look at 'em!" He gestures to us and half of our number shrinks back in fear. "By the way, you're scaring them."

Ser Fenris glances at us and turns his face away, swallowing hard. "What is she doing with them?" He finally seems to be breathing, thank the Maker!

"She's teaching them how money works, for one thing." Messere Tethras explains. "Yvanna, you wanna come and talk to Fenris?"

I look at the rigid frame of the elf beside Messere Tethras and pause as I've already started forward.

' _Yvanna, I want you to say 'no' if you don't want to do something. It will please me if you assert yourself.'_

"No," I whisper.

Ser Fenris lifts his head to stare at me.

I shrink a bit under his gaze.

"Alright, anybody else?" Messere Tethras speaks in soothing tones.

Mycah steps forward and draws Ser Fenris's gaze. He dips his head and his shoulders hunch. "Sh-she…is teaching us how the elves live in the Inquisition. We don't always do it right…but she doesn't punish us."

Another, Muriam. "We get new clothes and food and we don't have to work if we don't want to." She says in a high-pitched voice, shivering under the attention of Ser Fenris's intense green gaze.

"You see?" Messere Tethras puts his hands out and sighs deeply. "There's still stuff to figure out, but she's gettin' 'em there."

"I'm learning to read," an older slave, Zacharias. "And do figures and…paint."

Ser Fenris drops his head and turns away from us, "I need…air." All of the strength seems to go out of his body. I have the instant need to go over and offer him something- a cuppa or some pastries or anything that might perk him up. But then it's gone. If I wait for it to swell and dissipate it's…dizzying, but Lady Nik prefers we suppress the urge to serve if we're afraid or tired…or if we just don't want to.

It's so confusing.

"Hang on elf, I'll take you somewhere you can actually be alone. Just wait up." Messere Tethras chases after Ser Fenris with relief. "If you try to sneak anywhere without me, you might get stopped."

* * *

 

Third Person POV

"Now, what did we learn this month?" A woman in fine white robes stands at the front of a large room.

There is a room full of children sitting on the floor on cushions and blankets and pillows.

Many children raise their hands.

"Illani?" The teacher looks to a small girl at the center of the pack.

"Magic theory and the History of mage oppression!" She answers.

"And?" She looks around the room and points at another child. "Mekka?"

"We did our numbers and letters!" Mekka exclaims with a large smile.

"Yes, we did." The teacher smiles. "Anything else?"

Everyone seems to wrack their brains for something else as the Teacher watches with amusement.

Illani pops up and throws her arm in the air, "Ooh ooh, I know!"

"Illani?" She nods to the girl.

"We learned about the Canticle of Shartan!" She shouts.

"Very good, and today we're expanding on those subjects with a few stories about famous mages and elves." The teacher opens a book filled with handwritten notes. "The Lady Nightingale has supplied us with details that many other people may not know!"

There's a collective coo as the children get comfortable and watch their teacher with rapt eyes as she begins to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot going on in this chapter, lol


	114. Solas POV

Varric, Hawke, Anders, Fenris and Merrill are all waiting on the outside of the gates when we return to Skyhold.

Anders is still cloaked and half-hiding behind Hawke.

"What's wrong?" Nik rushes forward after hopping down off the wagon we've been riding in.

I follow on her heels and gauge their expressions.

Fenris seems agitated, but patient. Anders is nearly humming with energy behind Hawke, but doesn't step forward.

Merrill is shaking as Varric addresses Nik. "Schemer, uh…they all gotta talk to ya, but for right now, you need to follow Daisy to the training grounds."

"Come on!" Merrill exclaims and grasps Nik's wrist, proceeding to drag her across the bridge into Skyhold.

"What is going on?" I follow after the two of them with the rest of the group, leaving Cassandra and Dorian to lag behind. We've been traveling for hours, it is likely they are too exhausted to follow. As it is, _I_ am quite tired myself.

"That Dalish that showed up to ask for help for her clan?" Hawke jogs next to me with Anders behind us. "She eh…may have challenged those ancient elves to combat."

A curse in ancient, defunct Elvhen escapes me as a rush of pure ire rushes up my spine and I pick up my pace. "Have they harmed her yet?" I don't slow though Hawke struggles to keep up with me.

"They mostly seemed… to be playing with her… when we left." Hawke responds, short of breath.

Of course they were.

When we come upon them, Nik has already intervened- but Lavellan is bruised, bleeding and curled into a ball on the ground.

My heart drops when I see her kneeling over the young Dalish hunter with furrowed brows and a panicked expression.

She looks up and her eyes lock on Anders, "help?"

Hawke grasps Anders's arm and moves forward, "I'll stay with you. Come on."

I stay back as they rush forward, feeling the soothing wash of spirit magic as Lavellan is tended to. Nik is wiping blood from her face and then her hands and arms as she uncurls and lies flat on the ground. I can hear her speaking with Anders from here.

"The Herald is a strange woman," Fenris startles me. I am nearly never startled.

"I suppose she is," I respond, turning to glance at him behind me.

"Varric tells me she is simple and blunt…but sneaky and clever. These things do not go together." He says with a wrinkle between his brows.

"I believe 'sneaky' is the wrong word for it," I reply. I can feel one edge of my mouth perking upward. "To my knowledge she never outright lies, though she has twisted the truth on occasion." Recalling the situation with Illani and the man Cole murdered… "And when she does so, she has a very good reason for it."

"Reasons such as?" He shifts and crosses his arms, looking at me from under black brows and silver-white hair.

"Protecting someone from something or avoiding conflict," I reply with a slight smile. "You are looking for something wrong with her."

"There has to be _something_ ," Fenris growls. "No one is perfect."

"She is not perfect," I respond. "She is just better than most." I used to think the same, I cannot blame him for the thought. "She only seems that way because _most_ are completely awful."

Fenris seems to thaw a bit at that, "indeed they are."

"If you wish to ask her questions, I would be very cautious." I smile a bit wider. "The Herald does not believe in easy answers to complex questions. She will talk for as long as it takes for you to understand what she is saying."

"That is good, because I intend to question her about many things and easy answers irritate me." He says.

Varric sighs from beside him, "just go easy on Schemer if you're gonna ask hard questions. It takes a while for her to get to the point sometimes- don't snap at her." He points a finger at Fenris and narrows his eyes. "You'll probably actually make her cry and then ten different people will be trying to kill you."

Fenris huffs, "I would wager it would be more than ten, Varric."

"For making her cry, it's ten." Varric says. "For putting your hands on her in one way or another, there's just one you need to worry about and _he'll_ kill you before the mobs do." His thumb is pointing at me now, and Fenris is eyeing me with suspicion.

"As long as you only ask questions, I don't believe we'll have any problems." My mouth curves into a smile it hasn't formed in centuries. It is the same smile I gave Andruil and Anaris when they- it doesn't matter.

' _Don't dwell on bad memories._ '

"Shit, Chuckles." Varric is squinting at _me_ now. "You're scaring _me_."

My expression smooths. "My apologies, Master Tethras."

"Are you ever gonna quit it with that 'master tethras' bullshit?" He cants his head to the side and raises a brow.

"I don't believe so," I return with a much less menacing smile.

"Hey Fenris?" Nik walks over from the practice yard. "Do you mind coming with me and Hawke and…just with us? I can talk to you all in my new office!" She grins.

"What new office?" I haven't heard that she was even planning to _have_ an office. She turned the bedroom Josephine intended for her into a school for the children, so I thought perhaps she didn't need more than a small room to sleep in.

"It's like a hidden library," she says. Biting her lip, she glances away from me. "Do you want to come see too? Or…" She glances over her shoulder at Lavellan. "Maybe you could explain to Nanin and Islanil that this was a bad bad thing?"

"I will try," I nod. "Speak with the Champion and his friends alone- I am certain there will be less tension that way. Though I do think _Varric_ should go with you." I do not trust Fenris, Hawke or Anders. But I do, in fact, trust Varric.

He nods once in agreement. "Sure, let's go. Before the Seeker catches up."

Ah, yes. She saw Hawke for the first time as we were entering Skyhold. I wonder if she recognized him or if someone else will inform her of his presence now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's reading and keeps commenting on my chapters, you guys keep me going.
> 
> And to those of you who donate to me you really help me out, even the smallest amounts-- thank you so much for giving of yourselves.
> 
> Thank you lurkers who just sit, click subscribe and read all the way through the whole story.
> 
> Thank you people who give me kudos.
> 
> The only reason this has gone on so long is that all of you inspire me in your own ways and I really appreciate it. Thank you.
> 
> Double updating today just to show my appreciation.


	115. Varric POV

"Okay…so…" Schemer's fidgeting, behind her brand new desk.

Well, I say 'brand new' but it's obviously centuries old. Maybe older. It's beautiful, dark red wood- she fondled it when we walked in with wide eyes and nearly drooled all over it.

"I think maybe we should start with Blondie. The elf is a bit more patient." I interject with a smirk at said blonde.

Blondie scoffs, "I'm not _that_ impatient, but yes- I'd like to ask you a few things."

"Alright," she turns her attention to him, putting on her 'listening face'- she's damn good at that one. Head just slightly tilted, body leaning forward with her eyes intent on his face.

He took off his cloak after he walked in- when she mentioned he must be hot in it and that everyone in the room already knew who he was. I don't think he even noticed he was wearing it, really. He's been wearing it so long now it must just feel like a second skin.

"First…what do you plan to do with the mages once this is all over?" He starts with.

She blinks, "Varric could've told you _that_."

"I tried, but I don't think it's comin' out right." I shrug apologetically. I speak mostly in grandiose terms or business terms. Neither is really all that understandable to Anders when he's tryin' to figure shit out, apparently.

"Well, first of all. _I_ won't be doing anything with them," she begins. "I'm helping Vivienne to build up a college of Enchanters so her loyalists can live there and I'm hoping to help her make it safer for them, instead of just reinstating a new kind of circle. I actually want it to be a school that can be left at any time."

Blondie frowns, "and the Rebels?"

"The Rebels are going to be part of the new system I'm building and hope to get the King of Ferelden in on." Schemer chews her lip and glances between Hawke and Anders. "I intend to make magical clothing and food all the rage in Orlais so that I can be assured of their security there, if nowhere else."

Blondie's less tense than when we walked in, but not anywhere near relaxed. "So you'll send them to Orlais if they can't be free in Ferelden?"

"There'll be problems no matter what happens, I'll probably end up having to fine-tune things before the Inquisition dissolves but…I've got high hopes that it'll be a huge step forward." She says.

"Why not just send them to Tevinter?" Hawke asks, that look on his face I recognize. He's not asking because he thinks it's what she should do- he tends to argue in all directions.

"Tevinter isn't the safe Haven for mages it's made out to be," she frowns. "They're enslaved there like anyone else."

"She is right," the Elf says.

"I thought that was Indentured Servitude?" Hawke tilts his head at her.

Blondie is watching the exchange with his usual sad-eyed look.

"Indentured Servitude in the Imperium isn't better than outright slavery," the Elf's lip is curling. "I would in fact say it is worse. You get to keep thinking you're a person while they use you in whatever capacity they see fit."

"How is that worse?" Blondie asks, stupidly.

Schemer interjects before broody can blow his top, thank the Maker. "Because slaves can retreat into a frame of mind in which they aren't really in their body or in the moment," she says. "Being forced to be fully conscious all the time while being treated like that would be…horrifying. Hell, it's horrifying enough from a mental distance."

Broody is watching her with narrowed eyes now.

"Alright…what about the mages that we've been hearing about…becoming Justicars?" Anders stumbles over the question in a weird way.

"The Justicar Order is my answer to everything that's wrong with Thedas." Schemer says with a steady gaze. "A multi-cultural order focused on protecting people's lives, not imprisoning anyone or protecting anyone from _themselves…_ just waiting for bad things to happen and then leaping into action, sorta. There's more than just peacekeeper lawmen in it, too. There's a tailor and a chef in the mix and I plan to have more than that in the long run- they'll all have to have the same rigorous training, but their roles will be different."

"What roles will there be?" Hawke asks.

"Some of them will just be informants, like spies who watch for terrorist conspiracies or who lie in wait until something bad happens and only then reveals themselves to the people who might need their help." Schemer taps the top of her desk with her fingertips in a rolling rhythm. "Some of them will be specialists who supply the rest of the chain with food, medical care and other things they'll need like armor and weapons. Others will be sort of like therapists. People who'll take care of the rest of the Justicars's mental health…"

"Not just warriors and assassins, then." Blondie slumps in his seat. "And what about the Templars? I've heard you have some here."

"The only Templars I have in the Inquisition are rehabilitating," Schemer says. "People who agreed to go off Lyrium and need support to get away from the addiction. Everyone who didn't want to follow me or go off Lyrium, left."

"You just…let them go?" Hawke looks at Schemer like he wants to shake her. "They're probably out hunting down wayward mages-"

"Yeah I figured," she shrugs. "But I can't do anything to them if I don't see them actively doing so. I have people watching the ones I know about. If they slip up and attack any mages, they'll intervene."

"Why not just kill them and be done with it?" Blondie shifts around and sighs when Hawke wraps his arm around him.

"Because I can't just kill people for existing in a way I find objectionable," she says with a flat expression. "That kind of thinking is why the Circles and Templars existed as they did in the first place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to explain, Nik isn't saying that Indentured servants can't dissociate-- she's just saying they'd probably on the whole be a lot more present and aware of the abuses heaped upon them.
> 
> Slaves are broken and raised to believe that they are just tools, but indentured servitude eventually ends, so people would be left with a sense of self and might be treated incrementally less heinously. Not always but sometimes or most of the time.
> 
> This is my own personal headcanon, so if it doesn't make sense to you, we can discuss it but I'm not saying it's canon, okay?


	116. Chapter 116

First clue this is going to be a more complex discussion than with Anders is, Fenris asks for privacy.

So here we are, alone in my new office…Anders and Hawke going off somewhere else in the Castle while Varric probably waits outside the door, hiding from Cassandra I've no doubt.

"So…" I feel so awkward. Why is this so awkward?

' _Probably because every time you look at him you remember being a Hawke who loved him and also… remember reading smutty fanfics about him?_ '

Yeah, that's probably it.

He tilts his head at me, gazing at me with those pretty green eyes I used to write poetry about. "So. I met the slaves in your Fortress."

"Oh, how is Yvanna?" I ask. "I haven't been able to spend as much time with them as I want."

"She refused to speak with me," he responds.

I smile before I can help it and clear my throat, trying to smooth out my expression. "Uh…"

"Slaves do not say 'no'." He says. "I was surprised to hear her do so, no matter how softly it was."

"So did you have a question?" I ask.

My hands are shaking and I feel clammy, so my anxiety is spiking. My stomach is tossing over in my stomach, ugh.

"My first question is the same as Hawke and the Abomination's," he says. "What do you intend to do with them?"

"Well for now, I'm just helping them to not have to go back to Tevinter or get jobs as servants in Ferelden where they'd be mistreated probably just as badly." I grimace a little as I talk. I don't like the idea that they might want to go out and get jobs in Ferelden- but I would have to let them go if that's what they wanted.

"And once they have been…rehabilitated?" He seems to roll the word around in his mouth. "What then?"

"They'll choose for themselves what they wanna do and where they wanna go, and I'll help them be safe, wherever that is." I respond, shrugging. "I can't really…make any decisions about where they'll go or what they'll do because it's not up to me."

We sit in silence for a long while then, him staring at me and me trying to keep my eyes in the vicinity of his face so I don't accidentally communicate something like I'm lying or untrustworthy. People tend to assume if you don't want to meet their eyes, you must be lying or shifty.

He hums finally and seems to settle more comfortably in the couch-seat on the other side of my desk. Josephine is awesome at choosing furniture and decorations. "What do you intend to do with the prisoners in the cells below Skyhold?"

I blink, "Oh…I forgot about them. That's probably bad…" Of course, Alexius is still researching with Dorian- but there's probably more than there was in the game down there. "Damn, I have so much going on…it'll depend on what they did and why."

"Why don't we go there now," Fenris stands and I scramble to follow him out of my new office. "And you can show me."

"Uh-okay?" I follow him out of my office and down the hall. "But we need to get Josephine, Leliana and Cullen then…they have to be part of anything like that."

"Then we shall retrieve them," he says. Simply and plainly.

I don't know why it's so important to him, but soon enough we're walking into the Great Hall with Josie, Leli and Cullen and Fenris leans on a nearby wall to watch the proceedings with his keen green eyes.

I sit in my usual seat and quirk a brow at him.

He just stares steadily back at me as the prisoners are lined up all along the hall.

And I realize…what's going on.

"The hell is this, Josephine?" I turn and hiss in her direction.

She steps over to me and takes a knee next to my seat to whisper in my ear, "I am sorry Herald- but they were all accused of some kind of crime- I could not simply let them go. You must do the forgiving or the condemning or others will take issue with it."

"I'm not even-" I falter and sigh. I can't say I'm not in charge, because I basically _am_. "Why couldn't you guys just extrapolate and handle it like I would?"

"We could not take the chance that someone would take issue with it not being your authority which dispensed justice. If you were to delegate or name someone to be in charge of such things, that is something on its own…but-"

"Hell, fine." I flick my wrist and huff. "Did you gather all the requisite information at least?"

She nods resolutely, "you can dismiss half the cases now if you declare that insulting a Noble is not a punishable offense."

I blink at her, "Josephine…when this is over…you and me and everyone else are gonna have a chat in the war room."

She sighs, nodding and then standing to go back over to her spot next to Leli and Cullen.

"First of all: Everyone in this room who's here because a pissbaby Noble dumbass can't take criticism is free to go." I announce to the room.

There are a few Nobles at tables who drop their utensils and glasses- or at least fumble with them.

Josephine steps forward and starts listing off names and a Scout unlocks the shackles around each of the Elven servant's wrists. And they are _mostly_ Elves. But also…

"What about those of us here because we fought a human to protect ourselves?" A Dwarven woman shouts, she has shackles around her wrists.

"Yeah you guys can go," I glance at Josephine and she lists off more names. The Dwarven woman stays after she's unshackled. "Anyone else wanna tell me what they're in for?"

"I got picked up for stealing but I didn't take anything!" An Elven woman shouts.

"Some Human told the guards I was plotting a terrorist attack," one of the Tal'Vashoth? Seriously?

"Cole, are you around?" I call out to the room.

He flickers into existence down the hall and walks up through the throngs of gape-mouthed Nobles to get to me. "She stole nothing, and the Vashoth hurt no one."

"And plans to hurt no one?" I clarify.

He nods, "they didn't hurt anyone and they don't want to. Unless they hurt first."

' _Non-binary Tal'Vashoth, keep that mental note and memorize their face as best you can._ ' I'd hate to get their pronouns wrong. Cole always uses gendered terms unless he's speaking generally so his usage of 'they' for one person is significant and noticeable.

"They can both go," I flick my wrist and they are released.

"This is an outrage!" A Noble stands from his table with a bluster. "I know you favor Non-humans, but you cannot simply let these criminals go-"

"Quiet," I drawl with a growl in the back of my throat. "If you stand and speak in my courtroom you'd better have an actual argument. None of this pointless complaining. And if you're insinuating I'm not impartial, you need to have actual evidence."

"And so if we have an argument, are we to present it now?" Demands a Noblewoman who also stands.

Josephine and Cullen both look mildly panicked and Leliana is just…watching me.

"Sure, go ahead." I slouch indolently in my seat and rest my jaw in the palm of my hand. "I can't wait to hear it."


	117. Fenris POV

I did not expect the way she reacted to the sight of the nonhumans in the Great Hall. The irritation, the dismissal of one group after another after another until there were only a few left…

And then the Nobles objected, jarred from their stupefied states of incredulity by indignation.

And her reaction was to…

"I feel it is unfair that you punish every human who commits even the smallest offense and let nonhumans off with a slap on the wrist or no punishment at all!" The Noblewoman who declared her desire to argue is speaking with a heavy Ferelden accent.

"I see. And what crime have they committed, exactly, that I should punish?" The Herald asks, eyes half-lidded and bored. She is making a show of how much she truly does not care for their opinions. Against my own wishes, a chuckle nearly escapes me.

"You were just told by they themselves that they were accused of thievery and also of plotting to harm the people of Skyhold!" The Noblewoman crosses her arms, nose wrinkling.

"Yeah and Cole said it was a lie," the Herald gestures at the Demon boy next to her. "Cole is a Spirit. Demon, if you prefer. He can read minds and cannot lie to me."

There's a hush in the Great Hall.

"You've bound a Demon?" A man stands from another table. "And no one has done anything? This cannot stand!"

"Watch yourself," she says whimsically. "You're in _my_ house, at the moment. Remember?" Her lips pull back over her teeth in something of a feral grin. A showing of teeth more than it is an expression of any kind of mirth. "Cole is here because he chose to be here, to help us defeat Corypheus. Contrary to popular belief, the Veil ripping apart is just as bad for demons as it is for us."

Not surprising. Demons coming across the Veil through those rifts seem to be even more mindless than usual and I would assume that hinders their plans for world domination quite a bit. I still do not trust that demon that Varric dotes upon, but I have promised not to kill it as long as it behaves itself.

An Orlesian stands and points ahead at one of the few Humans in shackles. "I demand that you return my wife to me, immediately. I will pay whatever fines she has incurred." Apparently he feels free to speak and make demands now that the Herald has allowed someone else to argue with her. A dangerous thing, encouraging this…

The Herald turns her gaze to the Human woman. "Why are _you_ here, hon?"

The woman bows her head, "I attacked one of the guards. I should be locked up." Her body shivers as she stands there.

"She was running from me," the man walks around his table and approaches the woman in shackles. "I demand you return her, now."

"Soldier, stop him." The Herald snaps at the Soldier standing at attention next to the woman in shackles.

He snaps into action, halting the Noble's progress.

"What's your name, hon?" the Herald asks as she stands and walks lazily down the Hall toward the woman in shackles.

"I am Elizabeth," the woman says. She raises her head and looks the Herald in the eye. "I wish to be locked away. I was doing quite well in your dungeon."

"Why would you want to get locked up?" the Herald tilts her head at the woman with placid eyes. Communicating attentiveness and carelessness at once.

"She must be returned to me," the Noble opined. "She is my wife."

"You talk about her like she's a _thing_ ," the Herald drawls. "So I'm going to assume living with you is abominable." And then the Herald turns back toward her advisors and asks- "I'm a holy icon, so I can marry people- but can I also…divorce them?"

"Div…orce?" The Lady Montilyet frowns. "What does that mean?"

"The dissolving of a marriage," the Herald replies.

"I see no reason why she cannot," the spymaster speaks from beside Cullen. "After all, if Andraste does not bless their union, what else can be said?"

"No! Elizabeth is _my_ wife-" He tries to lurch around the soldier to grab at her but the soldier blocks him without having to be told this time.

"Elizabeth, do you wish your marriage to be dissolved?" The Herald looks at the woman in chains with slightly warmer eyes than before. "You can get a job here in the Inquisition and we can protect you."

The woman stares back at the Herald with wide eyes, "I…would be free?"

"Absolutely," the Herald replies with a smile as the Noble screams denials. "Is that what you want?"

She dips her head and her eyes dart across the floor as she thinks hard about it for a moment. "Must I decide that now?"

"No, you can take your time…but your husband will be removed from my fortress regardless." The Herald snaps her fingers and the Soldiers begin escorting the Noble out. "If you want to write to him or meet up outside the gates, that can be arranged- but he's being disruptive."

The Noblewoman lifts her head and smiles coquettishly at the Herald, "I completely understand, my Lady."

The Herald's nose wrinkles. "If you're gonna call me lady, call me Lady Nik." And then she grins.

The Noblewoman nods once, "my Lady Nik, Herald of Andraste."

She groans loudly and the soldiers and scouts in the Great Hall snicker. "Assholes," she mutters under her breath with a smile. "So, who's left?" She gestures for the woman to be unshackled and then to a Servant nearby that was just released. "Take her to her room if you don't mind and if you aren't quitting."

"Quit you, my lady?" the servant seems completely flummoxed. "Never."

She laughs brightly, "you know what to say to a girl, huh?"

His face flushes bright red.

I believe I could like this woman, if she is all she seems to be. I will wait and watch. If she turns out to be a Tyrant in the making, it will become obvious in time. If not…I see a brighter future for everyone in Thedas.

She is too lenient with mages, but I do not see any Abominations rampant in the streets as there were in Kirkwall, so she must be doing _something_ right.


	118. Chapter 118

The Great Hall emptied of people a little at a time as the Nobles aired their grievances and I told them how stupid they were being.

'You can't do this!' - "Pretty sure I can."

'This is unfair!' - "Pay your nonhuman servants the same as the human ones, quick smackin' 'em around and treat 'em like actual people- then you can come in here and discuss fairness with me. At least then I won't laugh you out of my fortress right at the beginning." And then I kept laughing as they tried to talk until they got fed up and stormed out.

'But they're criminals!' - "No. They're inconveniencing specifically _you_ , because you can't conceive of a reality in which everyone doesn't kiss your ass. Next."

And then I saw someone I recognized in chains, one of the few left after releasing all the nonhumans.

"I apologize for my guards taking you hostage like that," I place a flagon of Ale before Movran the Under and smile apologetically. "I'm writing up the rules of Skyhold but until they're all published, everybody's kind of at a loss for how to enforce things or what things could be considered a crime." I gotta get on that. Even just a rudimentary overview would be good to have for people for now.

I have him sitting at one of the newly emptied tables, away from the few Nobles remaining. Guy doesn't need the stink of perfume in his face.

"Your people defend your hold with strength, it is not something to shame you." He replies, then takes the flagon and gulps down the Ale. "Ahh!" He sighs once he slams it back down on the table. "That is a good Ale!"

"I've got people experimenting with the recipes and processes to make them taste better and also to make them healthier," I explain. "And you know, I know why you're here." I sit down in a seat next to him so I can look him in the eye. Not dismissing anyone and they all stay where they are, thank god. "I am sorry I killed your son, but he didn't allow for another outcome."

He makes a deep humming noise in his throat, "I hold no ill will toward you and yours, Inquisition. That boy was a brat."

"That's good, because I was hoping we could be friends," I gesture at the hold around me. "This place was built by Avvar on Elvhen lands. I have lots of Elves in the Inquisition and a handful of Avvar…but I'd like to welcome more. As traders, soldiers, healers…whatever."

"And what benefit would it be to us to join with you in your efforts?" He asks simply.

"Any skirmishes I have with Tevinter will have to be dealt with, either with diplomats or soldiers. I can be sure to put all Avvar Soldiers who want to be part of those skirmishes on the front lines." I respond. "And since I don't look kindly on Slavery, I don't think me and most of Tevinter are gonna get along. Your people have the most experience with fighting them aside from maybe the Qunari. I'll be certain to outfit you with the very best weaponry and armor available."

He laughs boisterously, "I see my son did something for his people after all!"

My answering grin might be a little sharp, but really who can blame me?

"Next would be…Knight-Captain Denam." Josephine announces as I walk back to my seat.

I pause and turn around to look at the man in chains off to the left with lank brown hair. He's dressed in the same clothes everyone else was in- those drab brown prison pants and that cream-white shirt with long sleeves. It's a warm outfit but it doesn't have much room to hide things in.

"You're the guy who murdered the next highest ranking officer to facilitate Envy. Yes?" I ask.

There's a pause as he just glares at me, "you hold no dominion over me."

"You're right," I respond.

"Herald-" Josephine steps back when I lift an eyebrow at her.

"So who _does_ hold Dominion over you?" I ask.

Denam stands taller, "Corypheus is a higher power- he will _crush_ -"

"So, Corypheus." I interrupt him. "And what does Corypheus do with people who fail him?"

There's a hitch in Denam's breath and he starts to turn red, "you've no-!"

"Shut up," I flick my fingers and the mark twinges as his voice dries up in his throat. "You are getting off that Red Lyrium, first of all. We're going to put you through the same process the Templars are voluntarily going through in Skyhold- if you're still like this sober, we'll figure out what to do with you then." I gesture at the door leading back to the dungeon. "For now, you're staying in the dungeon. When you're sober, we'll talk again."

They haul him kicking and silently screaming down the staircase and then his screams are suddenly audible again as my spell snaps back.

"Anybody else?" I ask.

Josephine shakes her head while Leliana simply tips her head to the side and smiles. Cullen is looking a little ill, but I kinda figured he would. We'll have to talk about that as soon as this is over- while I'm also laying down the law about the rules in Skyhold.

"Good, Judgment is over, everyone is dismissed. I will convene with my council in the War Room. I want everyone to spread the word that insulting someone, no matter who they are- is not a crime. That if a human attacks someone and they fight back- you are not to arrest the person who was attacked, you are to arrest the _attacker_." I snap that last bit between my teeth and look around the Great Hall at the soldiers suddenly looking at their shoes or flushing deep red or pressing their lips together into a thin line.

"And if a woman is on the run from her husband or any woman is running from _any_ man- I can't believe I have to say this-" I plant my hands on my hips and glare at any of them who'll even look at me. "You help the _woman_ and throw the man the fuck out of my fortress until he learns to take 'no' for an answer. Same goes for the situation in reverse."

Turning on my heel, I head for the door to Josephine's office and the War Room, following Cullen and the others as they file through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to make it clear that Nik is not just treating Denam as a junkie-- he is also a brainwashing victim. Her reactions to him might seem harsh, but she's struggling between the desire to just lop off his head and be done with it-- and showing him mercy.
> 
> And since Nik has to struggle against her mercy more than anything, it wins out.


	119. Cullen POV

"So…let me get this straight," Nik paces on the other side of the table and I already know this is going to be bad. "You put our people in danger- you didn't tell me about all the prisoners we were accumulating and you threw in a few fake prisoners to see what I'd do with them?"

The elf and Tal'Vashoth we planted were ferreted out as innocents by the demon boy, Cole- which Leliana had anticipated. She assumed he would tell her everything and we were all a bit surprised when he did not.

"We had to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were the person for this job," I say. Shrinking a bit under her angry gaze, I shake my head. "I didn't like it either, but we now know for certain what you would do without Inquisition support and under circumstances in which you would need to creatively solve problems. I thought this testing redundant, as I was already certain I knew what you were capable of. But…I feel more reassured now and I believe it was the right thing to do."

"No, actually-" She curls her hands like claws around the side of the War Table and glares down at the map atop it. "The right thing to do, to test me- would have been to create a fake situation in which no one was actually in any danger."

"You know nearly everyone in the Inquisition," Leliana states with her arms crossed. Her expression is cool, her eyes flat. "We train new troops here and you make it a point to meet up with and get to know them to a point. We send all our operatives out from here, and I know that is by design. You would have known."

"Not if they'd worn masks and disguised their voices somehow," she snaps. "Leliana, I'm surprised at you. I thought if anyone would understand that people are more important than power, it would be _you_."

The only tell Leliana shows is a slight twitch of her outer brow and I'm not sure it's actually a tell and not just a random spasm. "I understand that we need the strongest leader possible for the Inquisition. We always wanted Hawke for the job, but we thought you would be better. We were correct. We wish you to be Inquisitor."

"Well I basically already _am_ , did you really need confirmation for that?" Nik scoffs and crosses her own arms. "The first batch of Justicars are all mages who would rather be bound to me than be free on their own without protection. Which firstly, tells you that people will follow me, regardless of my political power. I explained that the Inquisition would dissolve at some point and they still _want_ to join up with the Order."

She starts pacing again, arms hugging her body more tightly than before. "You know I'm tough on the people that it's necessary to punish with harsh, decisive action- but that I also give most people the benefit of the doubt and second chances. You also know I don't balk at making those decisions. What part of you was doubting me, exactly?"

"It wasn't a doubt in you, so much…" I pause and look to Josephine.

She sighs, "we just needed the confirmation itself. Rather than simply…knowing."

"Well fine, I still don't like this, but you can't change the past." She grips the War Table again. "Ya'll are paying for the medical bills and the funeral of the people you _almost_ killed and the one you actually _did_."

I've never felt so guilty for the death of a single soldier before in my life. How strange that she can make all of us shift uncomfortably for something we wouldn't have thought twice about in our lives before.

"And if I'm Inquisitor, no more tests. No more lies, no more secrets- not even if you think you're doing me a favor. I _need_ to know. If I'm actually going to lead and not just be a pretty face on the posters, then I will be informed, is that understood?"

"Yes, Inquisitor." We intone together, quietly.

"Good. Now somebody get me some paper and some charcoal- I gotta write down some basic guidelines for the rules of Skyhold and the rest of the Inquisition. Josephine you can have someone write it up all pretty and distribute it across all our territories. Second, Leliana I want someone handling the law and order of Skyhold- someone who'd be open to working with Spirits would be best, figure out which of our spirit mages would be open to the position and fit the job best."

"Yes Inquisitor," they answer and hastily leave the room.

Leaving me with the Inquisitor. It has been a long journey to this point and I _am_ truly happy to have her here…as Inquisitor.

"I would like to ask you a question, if I may." Something I must ask or it will haunt me.

"You wanna know why I'm forcing a red Templar through rehab?" She asks.

I open and then close my mouth. Of course she knew I would ask, that it would bother me. She always knows. It was eerie at first, still sometimes can verge upon creepy…but it's more familiar to me than anything else.

How my sisters would always know everything used to bother me immensely. I suppose it still does.

"Yes," I answer.

"A lot of the Red Templars have been brainwashed- those who haven't are there because they feel valued by Corypheus." She sighs, "I know you kind of have it out for them- but to be honest I don't think they're just straight-up bad across the board. They were lied to, manipulated and supplied with a new drug that doesn't only make them stronger, it messes with their heads and their emotions."

"So…you mean to help the Red Templars." It shouldn't come as a surprise and yet it does. "What about all they're doing, all they've done?"

"They're going to face consequences, it just isn't going to be death right off the bat." She replies. "I'll find a way to redeem them, and if I can't…then the people they've wronged can judge them."


	120. Chapter 120

" _Da'len_ , look at you!" Keeper Deshanna calls out to Atheneras as we enter the room that Merrill's clan has been staying in. "I didn't believe the Inquisitor when she told me of the fool thing you did."

Atheneras looks a lot more cowed than I could ever accomplish, but she still purses her lips and argues. "I don't believe that Ancients could still live in Thedas and be hidden from us. I challenged them to force them to show me what they were capable of." She's still got bruises.

"They almost killed you and they weren't even trying," I interject as I walk over to meet up with Merrill who's now buzzing with energy. "Merrill, how are the kids settling in?"

"Oh, your orphanage is beautiful _ma falon_!" She bounces a bit. "There are three different people minding the children and many more teaching them- I've forgotten their names." A few kids in her clan were left without parents and she had no idea what to do about them. So I offered for my people to raise them alongside the other orphans in Skyhold.

There's a lot more of them than before.

"Me too," I respond with a grin. "Took me weeks just to remember the three."

She giggles.

Lavellan huffs to grab our attention and she's flushed up to her very red hair. "Simply because they're proficient in combat-"

"Proficient in Ancient Elvhen styles of combat," I respond. I cross my arms and give her an exasperatedly amused look. "You _know_ what Ancient Elvhen were. To us, they'd be like demi-gods. You almost got your ass smited."

She pouts as the Elves in the room erupt in titters and chuckles. Her ears flick back and she looks at Deshanna with a sense of betrayal when she sees her looking down at her with amusement sparkling in her old eyes. "Keeper, it isn't funny!"

"Oh but it is," she replies. "Where is your brother?"

"You brought someone else with you?" I blink at the difference in their expressions.

Deshanna looks calm and assured, Atheneras just looks nervous and irritable.

"We sent our first to you, to pose as a circle mage and gather information on the conclave and then later, the Inquisition." Deshanna says. "So, have you found him?" She looks to Atheneras.

"Dirthavaren is still hidden here, he has not showed himself!" Atheneras hisses to Deshanna.

Deshanna lifts her brow, "I am surprised, with the way he spoke so highly of the Herald and her Inquisition."

"Dirthavaren?" I ask quizzically.

"Ah yes," Deshanna turns to me again with a serene smile. "I believe he has been going by 'Ren', here."

My mouth drops open. That… "That sonofabitch completely fucking fooled me!"

"Why is she smiling?" Atheneras mutters to Merrill.

Merrill shrugs.

"I'm gonna go get him, and we'll have real-talk." I walk out of the room with a bounce in my step. "Be right back!"

… … … …

"So you've been Dalish the whole time!" I exclaim, looking at his Vallaslin-free face and just marveling at the masterfulness of his performance.

"I feared you'd discover me, sooner or later." He says, sitting between Atheneras and Deshanna. "I don't know much about living in Circles, but after asking a few key questions, I knew more than enough to fool everyone around me…" The mystification in his face and voice are telling. He really didn't think he'd make it this far. "I thought your pet demon would've found me out by now."

I snort, "Cole only tells about things that could hurt someone. If you weren't planning to hurt and he thought it could help- he'd keep his mouth shut. Like he has a bunch of times now…" I mutter and pout.

"Have you seen the small village at the base of this mountain, _Da'len_?" Deshanna asks Ren- Dirthavaren. Wow. No wonder he shortened it.

"I helped to set it up," he responds. "I told you as much as I could in the coded messages but there's so much _more_ to see, Keeper."

"A whole village of Dalish, Atheneras." Deshanna tells her as she looks confused and lost in the conversation. "Down at the base of the mountain- the man who saved our clan brought us through and had us set up our Aravels in our own plot of land." Deshanna's eyes water as she describes it. "fertile land for farming, a place where the mage children are encouraged to do more than just lead but to help in everyday life! A place where we are protected on all sides by soldiers and archers and our own people."

"I…have been occupied with the Dalish within Skyhold. I did not…see it." Atheneras flushes again- matching her hair.

Merrill pats her thigh and looks at her with caring eyes, "I have not either. I would like to go see it and find a place for my people next."

"Oh, your Aravels and everything are already set up down there." I say with a shrug. "Some of the other clans have donated a few Halla too, just babies and males but-"

Merrill stares at me with wide, startled eyes.

"What?" I glance around and see other Elves staring at me. "What'd I say? I haven't moved you guys down yet cause I didn't think you were all healthy enough."

And then Merrill kind of tackled me. "Oof!"

"Thank you! Thank you!" She's got her arms wrapped tight around me and her face is buried in my shoulder. "How can I ever repay you for this?"

"Uh…" I cough and draw in some air. "I'm pretty sure so long as you never try to kill anyone I like, we're good."

She laughs and pulls away, sort of looming over me with a bright smile on her face, "you have to ask for _something_!"

"Uh…you wanna join the Justicars?" I ask.

She blinks, "Is that…can I? I'm Keeper now, I can't leave-"

"You don't have to," I push myself up and she backs off enough to sit up on her haunches. I chuff in amusement at her dog-like pose. "Justicar training won't mean you can't do anything else. It's not even really a military thing- it's more of a…club. That people can belong to, but also do other things."

"A club," she responds in confusion.

"Like, you'd be part of two clans instead of just one." I shrug. "Your set of responsibilities would probably line up- protect people, watch out for them, mentor them…just different people sometimes."

Merrill chews her lip, "I suppose I could do that. If it really wouldn't mean anything but being trained to help people better."

"Combat and healing are big parts of the training- both magical and non-magical." I tell her. "And just warning you, it's going to be damn hard. But it will also set you up with contacts. Other Justicars who will help you in your endeavors if they are in line with the Justicar Code." Thank god I get to write 'em.

Merrill sighs, "I will think about it."

"That's all I ask!" I grin. "You've got time, I haven't started the training yet, really."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Ren was pretending not to know how to hunt or care for himself. He pretended to learn things from the Herald and then just went and did them with ease. He showed the squeamishness of a Circle Mage to put up a token resistance.
> 
> Even I didn't see this coming, my god this was like a freakin' revelation. I had no idea he was a Lavellan until I wrote this damn chapter. See? This is what I mean by the characters do what they want and I just write it down.


	121. Chapter 121

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, updating again just cause I love you guys for commenting so much lately. I love the comments, they keep me going.

"King Alistair!" I shout and sprint across the courtyard toward the blonde getting out of a fine carriage. "What are you doing here?"

I think my bouncing belies my excitement, and shocks Alistair- because he kind of pauses to stare at me for a moment. "I…came to talk. Do you mind if we find somewhere private to do that?" He clears his throat. "I hear you've been named Inquisitor, so I should only need to speak with you, yes?"

"Uh, sure?" I tilt my head and search his expression. "Something's wrong."

"Sort of," he nods and gestures back toward Skyhold. "Show me to a room with some privacy? I'll be bringing a bodyguard."

"Okay?" I say in confusion but turn to trot back toward Skyhold with Alistair and some guy in armor behind him.

I pass Solas who stopped still to watch the interaction where we were just speaking to one of the new Dalish shopkeepers. He carves wood sculptures and paints them to sell- we were discussing what good prices were.

Or well, Solas was- I still don't know much about the cost of things. I leave that to Varric, mostly.

"Meet me in my room when you're done?" I ask with a smile. "I have something to show you."

He quirks a brow and nods, "I have nothing pressing today…do not make me wait for long or I will find something to do in your room."

I gasp a little, "don't you dare clean my room!"

"It is a disorganized mess," he responds with a little smirk. "And as long as you do not leave me alone long enough to be bothered by it, you need not worry."

I pout as I march up the stairs with the King and his bodyguard behind me. We reach the Great Hall and I catch a glimpse of golden hair. "Zev, lookit!" I call across the hall.

All eyes turn to us, including a pair of whiskey gold ones that don't look as surprised as they should to see Alistair. "Ah, Alistair!" He gets up from the table and sashays toward us.

Alistair groans, "what did I do to deserve this?"

The bodyguard snorts, but falls silent and I giggle.

"You are looking healthy and…well-kept," Zevran purrs.

Alistair starts turning pink, but he does it while scowling. "Zevran. Good to see you."

"Is it?" Zev chuckles pleasantly. "I am quite glad to see you still alive. No political opponents have seen fit to assassinate you after all, then?"

"They've tried," Alistair quips with a slight smile. "But us Grey Warden kings have faced assassins before."

The smirk and grin they share at that is really so super adorable.

"So, come this way- if you want, Zev can come too." I walk over toward the doorway that leads down to the kitchens and also my office. "We can even call in Leli for old times sake."

"No, just us- see you later, Zevran." He adds the last part with what sounds like actual regret. "We'll catch up when I'm finished with business."

"I do hope so!" His cheery voice follows us down the stairs. "I am madly bored."

"I'll find you a new mission soon, okay- I swear to god!" I call back as we enter the room that houses my secret entrance to my library-office.

Zevran has been complaining the very second he came back that he's bored. I guess escorting Dalish across the countryside wasn't exciting enough for him. I'm thinking of sending him into Orlais to target some of our opponents. You know, the ones who can't be turned around or redeemed. The servant-beaters, the elf-haters, the Ferelden-must-be-reconquered-warmongers.

I'm not decided on it yet. It'll make me a whole different kind of leader to do that. That's…it's just a big step.

I walk into my office and settle myself behind my desk, waiting for Alistair's bodyguard to close the door and for the King himself to sit himself on the sofa-seat before my desk.

I'm surprised when the bodyguard settles themselves next to him and then…she takes off her helmet.

"Yelena!" I exclaim a little loudly. "I thought you were a guy under that armor!" She purposefully chose male armor, it looks like.

She groans and starts unbuckling her chestplate. "Yeah, that was the idea."

"Is something going on?" I ask.

"My whole country is going nuts, to start with." Alistair gestures emphatically as he speaks. "Half of my nobles are pissed off, the other half are terrified, all my commoners are talking about living under Inquisition authority and everyone is extra angry that you're stealing all their servants."

"Ah," I hum. "That rumor about me trying to take over the world- it's really that bad?"

"So it _is_ just a rumor?" Yelena asks. "You don't seem like the power-hungry type, so I wasn't ready to believe it."

"If I were to do anything with Ferelden it would reformation, not…taking over." I flick my wrist. "Reformation would include helping you to expand your villages out into the wilds, supplying troops to enforce laws and- well. Getting rid of nobility's political power." I shrug. "Basically if you asked, I'd help you change things, but I'm not gonna war over your land with you."

"That's good to know," Alistair speaks slowly and rubs his face with his fingertips. "So how do I make my people believe that?"

"By making it seem like you saved them from me," I reply with a devilish grin. "You go back with a treaty detailing all the ways I'm allowed or not allowed to intervene. It'll be real, don't worry about that- but I never had any intention of doing anything else. They won't know that, but this will make them feel safer."

"You came up with that awfully fast," Yelena mutters, shaking her head.

"Not really. I've been thinking about it since I heard about the rumors," I reply. "I was going to contact Alistair soon to talk about it- but you saved me a letter."

"So when will we hammer this all out?" He asks.

"Not today. Stay in Skyhold for a few days, enjoy some relaxation- I know your job can't be easy." I smile and turn my gaze to Yelena. "Meet up with old friends who are here- meet new friends, just…try to make yourselves seen as friends of the Inquisition. People will hear about the treaty, but also about how we were all unafraid of each other."

"Makes sense," Yelena say. "But I eh- I have to get back to my Arishok." She grins brightly. "I just came to scope you out for him."

"I thought that's what Bull was for?" I say. "Hissrad?"

"Oh he is, but…well." She purses her lips. "Arishok is beginning to doubt his dedication to the Qun- he's been away so long and keeps talking about you and your Inquisition…in such positive terms."

"Bull is coming to care about people, like your Sten did with you and your rabble." I grin. "Is that a bad thing, really?"

"I don't think so, of course." She rolls her eyes. "But he's gotten paranoid lately."

"Send him my regards when you go back," I say with a smile. "I've heard a lot about him."

"Yeah well he's mine, so hands off." She responds, grinning back.


	122. Chapter 122

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double update today cause these two chapters just kinda go together.

"Hey, you're not in my stuff. Yay." I close the door to my bedroom behind me and walk over to settle on the side of the bed beside Solas.

He's leaning back against my pillows, legs crossed delicately at the ankle, a book in his hands. He hums in response. "One moment."

"Found a book you actually like?" That's new. He usually writes in the margins- corrections and 'this is a lie, this isn't supported by evidence, there's no way to prove this'- shit like that.

"Indeed," he glances over at me. "You read romance novels." He says, as if it's some great revelation.

I see now that he's got that book I bought a while back to read before bed. It's about a human woman who falls in love with a Vashoth man- the human woman is from Tevinter, of course. It's an awful book, but it's better than anything else I've laid eyes on. Plot wise.

"It's not great, but until I start writing my own, this is all I got that isn't dry and informative." I smile. "Why do you seem so surprised?"

"I would assume your tastes would run toward the more…fantastical," he says.

"Yeah," I laugh. "They do. But most of the time you have to pick, epic fantasy, epic sci-fi or Romance. It's rare that a writer will make an awesome world with fleshed out characters and adventures and also have a good romance."

"There was a bookmark a bit past the middle," he says. Looking at the book instead of at me. That attentive expression on his face, just…unf. Why does everything about this guy just draw me in? "But there was a page that was dog-eared."

"Oh that," I actually flush a little. I can't believe he read that. "It's the only love scene that isn't cringe-worthy."

"There is no sex in that scene," he says. He's watching me with amusement and confusion. "Is that not the reason people read these stories?"

"No- I mean, yes. But-" I huff and flush deeper. "That's only part of the draw of a romance novel. Most of the interest comes from the relationship between the two -or more- main characters." I shrug. "People like tales of epic romance because it has everything in there that you could ever want. People who love you unconditionally and will do anything to be with you or protect you no matter what it takes. People who look at you and see something worthy."

I'm not looking anywhere near him anymore, just kind of staring sightlessly at the table across the room. "I like them mostly because there's a push and pull to the interactions. I like the…antagonistic ones." I huff a little laugh. "Rivals to friends to lovers is what they call it where I'm from." Mostly the fans.

He moves then, putting the book down on the bed and shifting around to sit beside me. Our thighs touch and our shoulders brush. It reminds me of the cot in my tent the first time he kissed me.

Well, the first time _this_ version of him kissed me. Shit, I haven't told him about that, yet. Maybe when we're done talking. I might just keep forgetting if I don't tell him soon.

His hand grasps mine and he starts tracing shapes up and down my palm and fingers. "Why read about great romance that comes from such contentious roots?" I might forget my own _name_ if he keeps doing _that_.

I chuckle a little and turn my head to look at him, "because love is nothing if it doesn't challenge you. The person you love should be your safe place, but that doesn't mean they should just…be silent, or agree with you all the time. You should feel safe enough to argue with them sometimes. Or all the time."

"I see," he stares down at my hand even as he threads his fingers with mine. "What did you wish to show me?"

"Uh…" Now that I've actually got him here, it seems silly and kind of…embarrassing.

"Now you _have_ to show me," he says. Looking at my face like I've just given him the best gift ever, already. "You aren't often flustered like this anymore."

"Yeah, so…" I sigh. "Where I'm from, there's a formula for relationships, did I tell you already?"

He hums, "meeting, dating, gift-giving and marriage. I believe is what you said."

I snort, "yeah that's basically it." Squeezing his hand harder, I stare at the way our fingers interlock. "I figured it would probably mean more if it was something that meant something to me. And you."

"Oh?" He's really trying to get me to look at him, bending a bit at the waist and tilting his head at me, but I have to say it before I can look at him.

"We'd have to go to sleep first, so you'll have to wait until then." I finally say.

"Ah," he leans over and wraps his arm around my waist, releasing my hand in the process. Pressing a kiss to my jaw, he pulls back far enough to look me in the eye. "Why is this flustering you so much?"

"I'll need your help to…get the images right." I finally say, flushing. "I'm not that good at manifesting yet."

He chuckles and presses our foreheads together, his right hand cupping my jaw, thumb brushing my lips. "You did not begin learning until you arrived at the Conclave- I would hardly expect you to be a master already. It took me many years to become even a bit proficient at Fade manipulation in my dreams. It is a discipline like any other."

"I heard you have students now," I smile and look down so I don't get caught in his eyes.

He taps my lips with his thumb until I glance back up, "I do." He's smiling too, that crinkle at the edge of his eyes is so damn charming. "Only because you made it sound so glamorous."

"What?" I ask. I think I'm pouting. "It's the coolest superpower _I_ can think of. You could make _anything_ happen there-"

He laughs as he kisses me, eyes closed even after he pulls back. Head bowed as his chuckles slowly die down.

I feel like my chest is in a vice. I don't really mean to say it again- I don't want him to think I'm pressuring him, but I just feel it so much it- "god, I love you." Pops out.

He looks at me with those sharp gray eyes and his lips part, but nothing comes out.

So, I kiss him. And he relaxes. He was so tensed, I can actually feel his body turn from wrought-iron to soft silk under my hands when I grasp his shoulders.

It hurts a little that he thinks I say it just to get a response, but- well. From experience I can see why. Why does anyone else say it?

This kiss is a little different than the ones before. It goes deeper and lasts longer and before it's over, he's pulled me into his lap and wound his hands in my hair.

Every slide of his tongue across my lips is like a lightning bolt going down my spine and every small sound he makes-

He pulls away and hides his face in my throat, breathing hard but not as hard as I am.

And then something occurs to me. He's been alone so long, it must be a big fuckin' deal to hear 'I love you' when your worst fear is dying alone. Maybe he just can't get the words out because-

' _Maybe he doesn't feel the same way about me_ ' my doubt says.

' _It doesn't matter,_ ' I think at it. ' _Either way it changes nothing. I'd still love him even if he could never love me back._ ' Love isn't a participation event, it's just a state of being. Even if he'd never kissed me, or had any romantic interest in me at all, I'd still love him. The love would've just taken a different form.

So I curl my arms around his neck and kiss his jaw, his temple and then speak low near his ear. "You know you don't have to say anything."

His arms around my waist tighten up in response.

"It doesn't change anything, I'm still here." I trace a single fingertip down the back of his head and neck.

His body shivers and he gasps a little, "…Nik…" Right, that's my marked hand. I should be careful about that. 'Fen'Harel' or as I like to call him, 'Veil' tends to use little bits of magic when I touch Solas.

I mean, he basically _is_ the Veil. So…yeah, us humans are incredibly unimaginative namers sometimes.

Something low in my body tugs toward him like he's got hold of my stomach. "Even if you dumped me tomorrow I'd still be here. I'm your friend before anything else, you know that, right?"

He sighs, long and tired. "I know." He's speaking into my throat, so it's muffled and his breath and his lips moving against my skin- wow. I didn't know it was possible to feel this overheated.

"Are you gonna freak every time I say it?" I ask with some amusement.

He pulls back with an unreadable expression, "are you going to be saying it often?"

I quirk a brow, "I love you."

His ears twitch and he's starting to turn pink, but he doesn't look as panicked as he did before. "You are _trying_ to fluster me."

"Hm…" I pull him close and plant a kiss on the edge of his mouth. "I love you."

He makes a noise that's half wounded, "Nik, please…"

So I move until I'm straddling him and shove him back on my bed. His hands clench my hips reflexively. Every time I plant a kiss on his skin somewhere, I say it. Against his throat, under his chin, over his cheekbones and into his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to see what you guys think!


	123. Chapter 123

This is the _eighth_ time I have set out to write out my observations and it's turned into her face. Instead of ripping out the page and burning it, like I have been doing- I throw my entire journal at the wall.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I try to control the shaking of my limbs.

( _I love you_ ) **lips on my throat**

( _I love you_ ) **tongue flicks my jaw**

( _I love you_ ) **mouth on mine**

I press my palms into my temples, fingertips digging into my scalp. Releasing my head and breathing out harshly, I suddenly notice that I am not alone.

"You seem…out of sorts," Dorian is sitting on my sofa. How long has he been there? "What's wrong?"

The 'dome of silence' as Nik prefers to call it- is still in effect, of course. He can likely feel it. He believes I should feel free to speak. "What does it matter?" I ask.

"If it has to do with Nik and you're about to do something incredibly stupid- or if you already _have-_ " He purses his lips. "I believe I should know, even if only to offer her whatever support I can."

"I haven't done anything to her and I don't plan to," I respond snappishly.

"Then what is the problem?" he asks. "And before you start in with the 'it's none of your business' business-I'd like to remind you that we are a team, and friends. If something is going interfere with the harmony of our rhythm in battle, we should resolve it. Or at least," he chuckles. "That's what Nik says we should do. So we either follow our dear leader's instructions or we completely ignore them. At this point, the ball is in your court."

And then Dorian stands and spreads his hands, leaning toward the door to the staircase that will take him to the second floor of the Rookery. Implying that he will leave if I ask him to.

We both know it will be an absolute hassle for me if I do. He will not let it go, he will simply be more subtle about attempting to extract information. He will hang about, making pointed comments or attempt to verbally trip me up.

He will not succeed, but that is beside the point.

Dorian is discreet, even if he could not possibly understand. Wisdom is being remarkably uncooperative about the whole situation- ( _I told you to commit, and you have. Opining about the many things you think you've given up is pointless. Especially as you've not told her who you are._ )

"How do you tell someone you don't deserve them?" I muse aloud. "That the only reason you are still here is because they haven't realized just how horrible for them you are?"

"You think you're horrible for her?" Dorian expresses surprise, surprisingly.

"Do you not?" I ask. "It took me too long to even notice she was interested in me, and it took even longer for me to realize I was making her feel like she was a child. Our first argument after truly becoming a couple was about Dalish and how I feel I am so much above them." Truly, looking back on that coupled with the many times Nik has spoken of their struggle to stay independent I feel…not ashamed, but it is close. I ignored the costs of freedom and spat on them for existing in a way I found inelegant.

"Do you feel differently now?" He asks, tilting his head at me.

"Of course I do," I flick my wrist.

He laughs bright and loud- both surprising and irking me. He shakes his head at me, "you are so much alike it just kills me!"

"What are you talking about?" I ask as I shove myself out of my desk seat, pacing around the area before the couch where he is standing.

"Do you know how many people I've met as changeable as Nik? Only a handful and you are among them." He shrugs. "I will likely never be the paragon of virtue she seems to think all people should aspire to- but she doesn't care if I _am_ that. She cares that I _try to be better_."

"That has always been her condition for people," I respond and pause to cross my arms and sigh. "If they are trying, you must give them a chance. If they are not, they are better off dead."

"But don't you see?" He gestures at me. "When you first joined the Inquisition, I'm told you butted heads with _everyone_. I asked Varric about it and he looked back and _laughed_ at the difference between the you then, and the you now." Dorian bites his lip and turns his head to look at my first sketched-out mural on the wall. Depicting the Breach. "The rest of us have only changed by degrees. Have you seen Cassandra with the Mage warrior recruits?"

The sudden change of topic is confusing but welcome enough. "I have."

"She pushes them harder than the non-mages, but mostly I believe because she finally understands what Nik has been telling her all this time. About how mages usually have more willpower and imagination than the average soldier and that those two traits could make the greatest swordsmen known to all kind?" Dorian chuckles and clasps his hands together, fidgeting. "Well, before she would barely interact with them. Until they got that report- you remember?"

"I will assume you speak of the mage recruit who picked up a sword and used it to impale a demon and then work magic into the center of their being." I reply.

"Yes, exactly that. He wasn't even training with a sword at that point and he still came up with a way to get around what he didn't know with what he did- Cassandra is apprenticing he and several others now." Dorian says with a direct gaze. "She changed by degrees, less than some of us, more than others. But you? You've changed nearly as much as Nik has."

"What is your point?" I am beginning to get irritated with this nebulous conversation.

"Did Nik tell you what happened in Redcliffe?" He shifts uncomfortably. "If she hasn't, she's likely just forgotten. She's told me her life is an open book and nothing is secret save her thoughts. So. I'll tell you the bits _I_ remember."

I have not heard anything about Redcliffe. I was too occupied at the time with holding Nik together and keeping her from working. She attempted to describe things to me in more detail- but the way she collapsed in Dorian's arms after appearing would drift behind my eyes and I would change the subject.

"What about it?" I feel only a twinge at the reminder, it is as good a time as any to hear it.

"Well, we met another version of you there. I'm sure Nik told you about him, at least?" He peers into my eyes. "Not much, though I'd imagine?"

"She told me he and the others kept the Inquisition alive for ten years as the world died and kept it going even beyond that." I respond. That is _all_ she told me, really. That is all I _allowed_ her to tell me.

"Well, I will tell you something. I asked him, 'why go on after everyone was convinced that Nik was dead?'." He paces around _me_ now. "He said he could sense the displacement, so he knew we'd been sent somewhere in time. Into another universe, actually- he knew that his world was not the future of our own but a separate future to another world. Nik explained it to me when we first arrived. You cannot actually change time, apparently." He chuckles. "And then I asked, 'so then why? Why go on for ten years on the off-chance that another universe's version of Nik will show up to fix everything? Even if you find some way to adapt, you can never go back to the way things were'."

I watch Dorian's expression as he speaks. It cycles through amusement, pained melancholy and exasperation. "What did he say?" I would prefer not to think of 'him' as 'me'.

"He said, 'I did not know if we would ever see her again or if we were simply one of those universes that is born to die- but I had to keep hope alive. I couldn't give up, not if there was a chance I could see her again. Even for a moment'."

Glancing away, I recalculate the way Nik behaved after coming back from Redcliffe. It was no different than usual, but I did notice her staring at me at odd moments and then apologizing for looking for 'the red'.

"He said, 'When Nik disappeared, all the light in the world went with it, for all of us'." Dorian bows his head and plucks at his leisure clothes. They are red, black and gold, Nik designed them out of Royale Sea Silk for him. "At the time I was trying to poke you into revealing your feelings for her so I spoke out of habit more than anything when I said, 'but especially for you?'."

Dorian's expression crumples, "as soon as I said it, I wanted to take it back. It wasn't my intention to be cruel."

"What did he say?" I ask, brows furrowing.

"He said nothing, he just looked at me." Dorian glances over at me. "There was something desolate in his eyes, like the loneliness was a poison that was slowly killing him. I…stopped talking for a while then."

I bow my head and breathe slowly, "and what is your point, exactly?"

"My point is, you survived ten years, years past the end of the natural world- you led an entire army, past the point of your mental faculties beginning to fail-" he halts and runs his fingers through his hair. "You did all of that on the off-chance that she might _maybe_ need you. I have no doubt your devotion is stronger than anyone I have ever met. I _envy_ you your devotion to her." He smiles bitterly. "Nik is one of a kind, but so are you, in your own way. To be quite honest, if you left her and she found someone else- no matter who they were…I believe not a single one of us would like him."

And because I must argue, "Varric likes everyone."

"I believe Varric would plumb the oceans looking for you while playing 'pal' with her new 'friend'." Dorian deadpans.

I am surprised into a short laugh.

"Deserving isn't the point of your relationship, is what I'm getting at." Dorian sighs. "You are kindred in too many ways. To find someone else who is so close to being what you both are who challenges you to move forward the way you both do-"

( _love is nothing if it doesn't challenge you_ )

"-it would be nearly impossible, I'm sure." Dorian tilts his head at me. "What is it?"

"I…" I am struggling to reconcile the fact that we apparently have what Nik would consider the perfect relationship. "I believe I missed something very important."

( _people who look at you and see something worthy_ )


	124. Chapter 124

It's hard to show him this. Hard to…just let go and let things be what they are.

" **This is where you grew up?** " He asks, looking around the property as we walk.

" **This is where I lived from ages three to eight, but it's where I felt the most at home.** " I respond.

The house is an old-timey mansion. You know, bottom floor, second floor, balcony, basement, big columns and old windows… There's an old storm shelter in the yard next to it, behind the house is the garage and where we park the cars- and then out beyond that is the fields where we kept our two horses…and over there is that place where we kept the pig we raised from a wriggly little pink and black spotted piglet.

" **Me and my brothers would come out here before and after this was the pig's pen,** " I say as we walk up to the edge of the small ridge. It's basically like an invisible lake with an island in the middle where it got dug up in a circle. The dug out dirt makes the ridge seem even higher- " **we would climb the side here.** " I point at the craggy, slanted cliff face. " **It was high enough we could've hurt ourselves if we fell, but it would likely not be fatal just to stumble down the hill. Unless we broke our necks, but hell you can break your neck just walkin' around normal.** "

" **I will not ask how, I am certain you have many horrifying ideas about it.** " He says as he skirts the edge of the hill. " **The image seems distorted. Had you not returned to see it once you grew up?** "

" **Nope,** " I shrug. " **We got kicked out and couldn't come back, cause the landlord wanted to move his own family in. Even though it was me, my grandma, my brothers and my mom living in that house-we filled it up and there was still room for all of us to have privacy and time alone…it was perfect.** " I sigh. " **Mom had me and the boys mostly hanging out in the basement, but my room was upstairs next to grandma's so that's where I'd sleep when I wasn't sleeping in bed with her.** "

I smile at the memory and blink when the images around us shift until we're inside my room in the mansion. I concentrate really hard on not including any electronics, but a couple of the plastic toys are clearly visible. Fuck it, I can't hide everything forever.

" **It is…** " he's staring at my childhood bed. " **Pink, fluffy and…lacy. And made of that material you can't seem to stand.** " He adds the last part after touching it. The memory of the sticky quality of that blanket- ughhhhh. Not sticky like liquid-sticky. Sticky like it had burrs lining it and they would catch on my skin. Ugh. I don't know why people _have_ those fabrics.

" **That was most of the reason why I slept with grandma,** " I admit in a deadpan tone. " **Also my toys sometimes looked mad at me.** "

He chuckles and walks around the room, frowning after a moment. " **There is…a bad memory associated with this room. But the emotions are mixed. It is both positive and negative?** "

" **Yeah…** " I rake my teeth over my bottom lip. " **My cousin tried to shove his tongue down my throat.** "

He looks over at me, alarmed.

" **It wasn't the first time he did it, either.** " I grin and feel a sense of self-satisfaction steal over me. " **But it** _ **was**_ **the** _ **last**_ **time.** "

He stares at me for a few moments, " **will you tell me what you did?** "

" **Huh?** " I blink. " **Oh right, sorry. I bit his tongue.** "

He snorts and turns away, trying to collect himself. " **I- my apologies-** "

" **No, it's fine. It was funny.** " I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist from behind, kissing the back of his neck. " **It wasn't the last time this happened to me, but it was the last time it happened to me because of that particular cousin. Or, well. Step-cousin.** "

" **Your cousins were in the practice of forcing themselves on you?** " He tries to control the horror in his voice, but I can hear it. His laughter died and I wish it would come back.

" **Eh,** " I bite my lip. " **One of them got further with that than anyone else when I was eight and he was a teenager.** "

His body is hard like a rock in my arms.

" **But I didn't really realize what was happening and he didn't actually get to do what he wanted to me.** " I say, stroking a hand over his chest and stomach in as soothing a manner as I can. I love the feeling of his shirt under my fingertips. It's made of a soft, sort of cool material and in the Fade…it's just a really cool feeling. " **Where I'm from, and even here in Thedas- it's just a reality of being powerless as a child. People try to take advantage of you, hurt you…use you.** "

His hands curl over mine and he grips them tight, " **this is why you are so protective of children.** "

" **I'm kind of mystified that everyone just…isn't already that protective of kids.** " I tell him honestly. " **They're small and powerless and weak and no one seems to think it's a big deal when they experience trauma. Even the smallest thing to an adult can be a big deal to a child.** " I hum and bury my face in the back of his neck, forehead against his spine. " **But yeah, it's probably one of the things that led to me being so super overprotective and aware of it all around me.** "

" **And what of your championing of nonhumans?** " He says the word 'championing' like he doesn't want to say it but it's the only word he can think of. I think 'champion' just calls to mind Hawke and while Solas is cool with Hawke…well, they don't really _like_ each other. All that much.

" **I just slowly came to the realization that racism is lazy and stupid and I didn't want to be either. I mean, I still am to some extent. There's no point in your life you become completely inoffensive to all people ever…but if you keep trying and you keep an open mind and listen to the people you've offended- if you apologize and try to get better and never dismiss someone else's pain…you'll be better than most.** " I sigh and shrug. " **I have the capacity to be horrible, you know.** "

" **You have the capacity?** " He asks. " **Everyone does.** "

" **No, they really don't.** " I say. " **I mean sure, any person ever is capable of great good or great evil…but it would be incredibly easy for me. I could just let go, not care about anyone or anything but myself…it would be so easy. That's why I'm so…high-strung. If I let myself slip, even a little bit…I might fall all the way down to the way I used to be.** "

" **The way you used to be?** " He asks, shifting until I loosen my arms enough for him to turn around and grasp my wrists, pulling my arms around his shoulders and then folding his own around my waist. His forehead rests against mine and we sway, just a little. It's very soothing. " **Were you so bad?** "

I huff a little laugh, " **I mean- objectively I was an angel. I never got in trouble unless it was by accident. I always tried to do as authority figures told me to do…I was the sheepiest sheep there was.** "


	125. Solas POV

" **Somehow I doubt that,** " my palm cups her cheek as I attempt to envision a version of her that is quiet and meek rather than outspoken and opinionated. I cannot.

" **Heh. Watch,** " she says, turning her head to watch a scene unfold in new surroundings.

I am weaving the Fade to her wishes, but she is in control of where it goes.

I nearly lose my focus when she kisses my palm, but I manage to keep my eyes on the scene unfolding before me.

There is a small child who is obviously Nik. She is young with even longer hair than the adult version- her eyes are large and shining as she stares up at a man standing before her.

There is a bandage wrapped around his ankle and I cannot hear the words he speaks, but the anger and volume are clear.

" **Why is he angry with you?** " I ask.

Her brows furrow a bit, with a small smile. The conflicting expression is echoed by her energy writhing around in confusion, anger and sorrow. " **Because he wanted me to admit a lie.** "

" **Admit a lie?** " I ask. The wording is strange. " **He wished you to tell the truth?** "

She laughs and it is a harsh thing, " **he wanted me to tell what he insisted was the truth but I knew to be a lie. Eventually I lied and said what he wanted just to get him off my back.** " She shrugs and leans into my body.

My arms encircle her, and though my soul yearns to do the same…I do not believe she is prepared for that. Not yet.

" **See, we had these horses and the gate was open because he was doing something with them or…I don't remember…** " She looks up at me from the circle of my arms and her brows furrow. " **Come to think of it, why did he leave the damn gate open to begin with? He had a bum ankle cause he injured it when we went to the beach…and he had to hop for the gate when the horses started stampeding toward it.** "

" **And?** " I know it is easy for her to become lost in her thoughts- if I do not prompt her when her eyes get faraway like this she may get caught in a spiral of bad memories.

" **And I forgot my mom and grandma were gone so I went into the house to look for them, shout their names, you know. What kids do in a crisis,** " her teeth rake her bottom lip. " **He was angry at me for not running to the gate, which stampeding horses were running toward- to close it before he could get there. He was also angry that I said I went looking for mom and grandma when I was supposed to know they weren't there- so he said I was lying about why I went into the house. He said I was afraid and ran away, and that I should just say that.** "

" **This memory is important to you, why?** " It seems so…normal. There is not any yelling, though there is loud talking- no hitting, no screaming…she does not seem to even be crying in the memory. Simply attentive and defiant…until she is not.

" **It was what prompted me to to compulsively lie for a long time,** " she says and steps back to wrap her arms around herself and rock from side to side. " **It's when I learned that the truth didn't matter- it just mattered what people wanted to hear…and it was one of many times that man tried to blame me for his own dumb-assery.** " Her nose wrinkles and her lips purse. " **I didn't do anything wrong. I reacted like a child is supposed to. But since he didn't want to admit he'd done something stupid, he latched onto something he could blame on someone else.** "

" **You do not lie at all anymore, so I will assume something changed?** " I want to reach out, but she seems to be isolating herself. Her energy is pulling in and hiding away from me. I made her feel this, didn't I? " **When you said small things can seem important to children is this what you meant?** "

She glances at me and away, to the small girl on a plush chaise. " **This and other things. This taught me not only to say what people wanted to hear, but that no one was listening to me. That no matter what I said, if it** _ **wasn't**_ **what they wanted to hear, they wouldn't hear it. They wouldn't care.** " Her jaw tightens. " **It was one of many moments that taught me I was nothing and no one, that what I wanted and felt didn't matter and nobody cared about me.** "

" **One of many moments,** " I say. I am trying to engage her, get her to open up again. She was so open and one thoughtless comment I didn't consider is creating this tension.

" **You don't learn things like this all at once, Solas.** " She speaks in a low tone of voice. " **They're hammered into you over time. Every time your mother tells you you're being 'overdramatic' when you express your feelings. Every time your father tells you that secular things are evil and liking them is the road to hell.** "

" **You have mentioned this… 'hell', before. What is it?** " I do not want to distract her, but it is her favorite curse word.

She huffs in amusement, apparently unbothered by my derailment. " **There's two places in the afterlife of Christianity. Heaven and Hell. Heaven is forever prosperity and happiness…** " She purses her lips. " **Hell is endless suffering.** "

" **He told you this as a** _ **child**_ **?** " The finer points of religion will always fascinate and confuse me, but this is particularly… " **That simply because your life did not revolve around religion you would be…doomed for eternity?** "

" **Yeah,** " she nods.

" **Were you expected to become a holy woman? A sister as the Chantry has?** " Why raise a child with so much rigidity if they were not expected to go into clerical work, it makes no sense-

" **Nope. I mean, he might've wanted me to- but I never had any plans to be.** " Nik shrugs and drops her arms, swaying and twisting her hips to watch the hem of her dress swirl. It is a pure white dress, shapeless and sleeveless. It looks almost like something a child would wear, or a chaste sister of the Chantry, I suppose. " **He was a hypocrite but…well, in my experience, most religious people are.** "

" **I suppose,** " I respond. My brow furrows as I watch her energy slightly emerge from the tight ball it was wrapped up into, but stays close to her astral being. " **And yet you respect the religions themselves.** "

" **Well yeah, most of the time when someone starts a religion there's a real hope for peace and love to come about because of it.** " She says and glances up, catching my eyes. " **I don't blame the good few for the actions of the shitty many.** "

My lips twitch, " **And that is why you are so forgiving?** "

" **Forgiveness has nothing to do with it,** " she rolls her eyes. " **I lack judgment. People do shitty things, they get better or they get worse. It's a fact. Why act like an ass when being supportive could help them be better? So many people could've benefited from a sympathetic ear…like Anders.** "

I tilt my head and smile, attempting to project calm and acceptance. " **I see.** "


	126. Nik POV, Solas POV

After the stuff I showed Solas in the Fade, I was tired. Tired while asleep…funny how that works. So Solas left and I fell into a dark pit of dreamless sleep that seemed to be more restful than my usual nights are.

We had this weird awkwardness surrounding us after we talked about my father and religion..so I made an excuse of being tired and he let me get away with it.

I mean, I _was_ tired. But that isn't why I wanted to retreat back into deep sleep. I felt like…

Well, he was trying. That was obvious. But everyone has that instant knee-jerk reaction of asking 'was it really that bad?' or saying 'that doesn't sound so horrible'. Because they don't have the context, because they aren't aware of the feelings the actions evoked…he didn't mean to start me in on my pain olympics, he was just confused.

And when he realized he said something wrong, he got more careful and guarded which just made me feel bad for making _him_ feel bad.

And then I opened my eyes this morning and he was there.

He wasn't in bed with me, or anything like that. It seems like he just woke early and sat at the table across the room to wait for me to get up. He had that romance novel out, and I can see the dogeared tip of the page- so he's reading through that bit.

I've been here, sitting silently and watching him for a while. He should've finished by now- but his eyes keep going back to the beginning of the page. "What are you doing?" I ask when it finally gets to be too much to just sit in silence any longer.

He goes still as his eyes flick up and to the side. God, I wish I had a camera. Everything he does, every move he makes is just…captivating. Especially when he doesn't mean it to be.

He licks his lips and shuts the book, keeping the page dog-eared. "I was attempting to divine what you like about it, but I am at a loss for what makes it unique to the other scenes. The badly written dialogue, overly flowery use of euphemisms and awkward positions I am not certain are possible- it seems perfectly normal for human literature."

"Do I seem normal to you?" I ask curiously.

He chuckles, "I suppose not. But I assumed you would have… _something_ in common with humanity."

I bite my lip. "What's tripping you up?"

"It is a scene where they touch each other, but not intimately and without any purpose." He responds. "They simply reach out and grasp and hold on. And while I enjoy holding you immensely, I do not imagine this particular act moves you overly much in reality."

I sigh, "it isn't about the…I can just show you. I guess." The thought occurs to me that this might be pushing it too far. I mean, it hasn't been that long since we became a 'thing' and we don't even really kiss that often.

"Show me?" he's smirking all of a sudden. "And how do you intend to do that?"

"Don't get all smug at me," I pout and push myself into a sitting position. I forgot I'm only wearing a too-big tunic and my underwear, but I don't think it matters. Everything's covered. "I'm not talking about…shut up your smirky face."

He laughs in a low-key way that really makes me want to curl my toes. "By all means, then. Show me."

Pursing my lips and taking the challenge for what it is, I stand up and whisk the covers off my bed. "Take off your shirt and lie down on your front."

He's quirking a brow at me when I glance back at him. I quirk mine right back.

He stands and walks to my bed, shucking his shirt on the way, folding it like the tidy dork he is- laying it on the foot of the bed at the far side near the wall before climbing onto it and settling with his arms folded under his chin and his legs crossed at the ankle.

He isn't looking at me, which is the only reason I don't ask.

There are scars all over his back. Not huge, in fact very thin and almost unnoticeable. It looks like he'd been cut over and over and over again and then healed after each cut only to be cut again. They're probably just really faded and that's why they all look…like that.

As I walk over, I get lost admiring the dips and curves of his spine, his shoulder blades and his hips. ' _These scars happened after the Veil._ ' There's no reason why he would've just let himself scar back in the days of Arlathan…unless it's a self-punishment thing. I mean, the Arlathan Elvhen don't strike me as the 'take pride in your scars' types…but wouldn't that be cool, though…

I bite my lip and lift a fingertip to trace from the base of his neck down the length of his spine. He shivers and I can see his feet and hands clench up a little. "Put your arms in a comfortable position where they'll be at rest and you won't need to move them. And uncross your legs."

There's a pause before he complies.

"If you say stop or don't or slow down, that's okay." I say and wait until he turns his head to face me and opens his eyes. "You know that, right?"

He blinks, "if I did not, I would not be here."

"Then tell me…you trust me, don't you?" I ask with sudden anxiety clogging my throat. "And I can trust you to set limits?"

His eyes dart away and then back to me. "I won't simply allow you to bypass any boundaries I have without comment or protest, Nik. And I trust you to stop if I should ask, yes."

My throat doesn't feel quite as tight now, but my stomach is still full of butterflies. "Okay. Close your eyes and breathe deep."

He follows my instruction after one last moment of staring up into my eyes.

I bite my lip and climb on top of the bed with him, straddling his hips and settling down with my hands on his back.

* * *

 

Solas POV

She seems to read some sort of hesitance where there is none.

I am curious and curiosity often makes me sharper and more attentive to everything around me. It is the very reason she preferred not to meet my eyes in the beginning, is it not?

I take in everything as much as I am able when situations such as this arise- though I suppose she has never seen me like this in quite this context.

She does not begin any kind of massage, as I thought she might have been working up to.

Instead, her fingertips move along the length of my spine only barely brushing my skin. "Your spine is usually always straight, you know. Even when your shoulders are drooping and your head is bowed low, it's always…so straight." She speaks as her fingernails brush my skin, causing shivers I cannot control.

"Is it?" I hadn't noticed. I have kept my back straight for so long I suppose it is only habit now. I could relax it if I so desired, but I suppose it has been too long now to do so without concentration.

"And your shoulders are more expressive than your face sometimes," her fingertips begin tracing shapes with her nails over the bare skin of my shoulders. She traces down across my shoulder blades and I am _already_ feeling a slight tingle under my skin. Warmth surging up from underneath, from my spine, my chest…tightening my skin and causing the muscles in my back to twitch minutely. "They shrug and shiver and dip and rise with your moods and expressions. When your face is all flat, I have to look at your ears and your shoulders and your hands and listen to your voice to figure out what you're feeling."

"And here I thought I was inscrutable," it's worrying that I missed such a crucial detail about my own emotional expressions.

"You still are, I just tend to react on instinct. People who don't know you probably wouldn't figure you out just from your body movements." She replies, hands smoothing up my back with firm pressure. "Also, have you noticed you tend to fold your arms behind your back when you're trying to seem nonchalant?"

The amusement in her voice does not go unnoticed. "That was the whole point of affecting it, yes." There is no point in hiding that I have practiced movements and expressions, she has already noticed.

My breath catches when she kisses the spot between my shoulder blades. I release a shaky breath as her fingertips drift down my back and curl around my waist on either side, squeezing lightly as her breath warms my skin.

"Do you get it, yet?" She whispers against my spine.

I breathe deeply and lick my lips before replying. "I believe I am beginning to, yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole lotta relationship development is going on right now, but next chapter we'll be getting back to the storyline and plotty things. The reason it happens this way, I think is because Solas is controlling the pace they go and Nik is extra cautious about pushing forward. So she waits until he seems receptive and backs off if he turns a one-eighty.


	127. Chapter 127

"Oh my god!" An ungodly shriek erupts from my mouth as Krem rides in with the Chargers and a couple of my Justicar recruits, who are driving their own wagon _full to the brim_ with Drake berries! "How the hell!?"

Krem laughs and dismounts his horse, walking over to me as I gape. "They were growin' all over the place, your worship! Spread everywhere, even through the snow."

"Everywhere?" I frown and take a scroll of paper from him. I've had my people work up small maps for each region specifically for marking down caches and plants and such in the region.

"Well…more specifically where we found the few dead Templars that were littered around," He says as I open the map.

Each little red circle is where a Templar body was found and each green one is where they found vines of Drake Berries.

"That's what was missing!" I exclaim and throw my arms around Krem's shoulders, squeezing him tight as he laughs and pats my back. "Red Lyrium!"

"Yeah, but we figured you wouldn't want the bodies left around to corrupt the earth, so we pulled 'em out of the snow to burn…" He bites his lip and looks uncertain as I step back. "But all of the Red Lyrium was gone from 'em before we did. It's like…it's like the plants _sucked_ it out of 'em."

"Yeah, apparently they do that." I say distractedly as I look at the number next to the colored circles on the legend of the map. "We have a _hundred-sixty-two_ of these things? Hell yes." I grin.

"What should we do with 'em?" Krem shifts a bit closer and speaks low, looking at the wagon, as if that's what we're talking about, exclusively. "Jus' so you know, the men 'ave been eyein' em. I think they were thinkin' they could sneak a few and sell 'em elsewhere."

"Do a count and make sure they're all still there. If they're not, find the thief and have him detained- if they are, have them transported to the Science department." I mutter. Then more loudly, "find Dorian, he'll figure out how to use them."

Dorian and I already discussed how the berries would be used when we first planted them. Once the plants had fruited we were going to divide it into sections. Biggest section would be used to supply the Gray Wardens once we found them, and it won't be long now that we're decided on heading out to Crestwood day after tomorrow.

I accept Krem's salute and smile as he turns to head back to the men. He'll have a report on the new possible recruits for me written up soon enough, I'm sure.

Now to tend to my _actual_ Justicar recruits.

Heading out of Skyhold and down the side staircase that leads me down the mountain- cut right into the side of it! I breathe slowly and keep my eyes on the steps and wall on my left. If I just ignore the open air in my periphery, I'll probably make it all the way down…

Though the first set of stairs I always go down sitting unless someone is with me. I feel a lot more secure if Solas or Dorian has a barrier set up beside me. It's comforting to know you couldn't fall even if you wanted to.

And god do I _not_ want to!

As I finally get down to the bottom, I can hear a lot of commotion coming from the Avvar training yard.

The Avvar mostly stay in tunnels cut out of the side of the mountains on all sides. They have plenty of room for themselves and were happy to accommodate traders who needed places to sleep at night. They open up their stalls in Skyhold's courtyard in the mornings and then come down here at night.

I'm working on the pulley system and cords necessary to create a sort of elevator. They have them in Thedas, like the one you take to Lowtown from Darktown- but they're all made of wood and rope and I want something sturdier.

Some Dwarven craftsmen have been interested in figuring out the cables and weight distribution so it should be done soon enough.

The Training yard is out beyond the mountains in the woods, near enough to their village so they won't really be disturbing the animal populations or scaring them far away. All the animals are a bit farther out.

"Inquisitor!" Dahlia is gasping for breath as she runs up to me from the sidelines of the training yard. "Have you come to train with us?"

"Not today, sorry guys." I smile at the groans and sighs that evokes. "I've got shit to do, I can't always come play around with you all the time. I'll be back in like…a week and a half- maybe with new recruits, maybe not. I wanted to check in and make sure you guys were doin' alright before I left." I'll probably get busy tomorrow with last minute stuff I gotta do, so it's best to do this _now_.

"Oh this is so fun!" Merrill skips over from the training yard with Anders trailing behind her, looking nervous. "The Avvar have such strange war games."

"Anders, how are you feeling?" I ask with a gentle smile.

He clears his throat and reaches up to undo his hair so he can retie it. He's sweating and his hair was escaping all over the place. He plaits it casually as he considers his answer. "I haven't felt this calm in…a long time."

"That's good," I say and turn to Merrill. "While I'm gone, would you mind watching out for the collective Dalish of Skyhold with Athena and Ren?" Athena is the only way to shorten Atheneras without sounding weird. She hasn't told me to stop calling her that, so I guess it's fine… "Dahlia's watching the Orphanage and everything."

"Who's watching the ex-templars?" Dahlia asks. "Madame Vivienne?"

"Cullen has those in Recovery under his watch. Those well enough to fight are under Vivienne's purview, yes- but she mostly has Barris for the day-to-day stuff of handling them and their tasks. She assigns, he enforces."

"We're beginning that special training you told us about today," one of the mage recruits is wringing her hands. "Are you sure this is necessary?"

"Hey we'll all be here for each other," the scout with freckles from the Mire says to the mage. "If you start lookin' all explode-y, we'll knock you out and the Augur'll handle it."

The mage sighs and I laugh, reaching out to jostle her with my hand on her shoulder. "I promise you, if you do everything the Augur tells you with respect and dignity- you'll be fine. Just be sure that you let them know if you aren't feeling at peace when you should be. You'll be able to try again later with the Augur alone if you need to."

She nods, blonde hair catching the light with a shimmer. Very pretty. "Thank you, Lady Inquisitor."


	128. Zevran POV

"Hey Zev," the newly named Inquisitor approaches with a smile. Large and vibrant, with a curl that makes her seem almost mischievous. She always smiles when she greets me, no matter how tired or obviously irritable she seems to be. "Getting acquainted with the personal care specialists?"

I've just exited the whorehouse, which is actually called a 'personal care center' in the red light district which is now known as the 'personal care district'. "I am so confused," I say to her as she leans on the wall across from the brothel next to me. "Everything is so bright and clean and the workers are happy and well-paid and…" my mouth opens and closes. "Is this how brothels work where you are from?"

"Oh god no, where I'm from, this is illegal." She responds, snorting. "I take bits and pieces from home and use them to improve the lives of Thedosians, it's true…but not everything from home is worth adapting."

"Why would it be illegal?" I ask with some surprise.

"At first I think because of religious practices and guidelines but later because some women felt it harmed them to be associated with paid sex workers and also to prosecute the people on the bottom. After all, moderately well-off human women with husbands don't usually _need_ to turn to sex work, so the only ones who go into it are the poor, elves, qunari, dwarves- people disadvantaged by society."

I hum thoughtfully as I watch the patrons leaving and entering the front entrances proudly. No shame whatsoever. "They spoke of other services beyond the usual. I thought perhaps they meant the _really_ kinky stuff, but…"

The Inquisitor barks a laugh and shoves me a bit. I grin at the casual contact.

"No, jackass…" she giggles. "Not kinky stuff. That's already included," she shrugs and sighs. "It means mostly…well, Action Aftercare and other relaxation services. Massage, hair care, personal grooming of all kinds, really…as well as platonic BDSM, of course."

"Ah. What is Action Aftercare?" That is the only thing I did not understand out of that whole explanation.

"Basically a program where you can go in and request affection, cuddling…that kind of thing. For when you have a bad day or traumatic events happen." She shrugs. "A lot of noblewomen have gone in for that one. I sent the one I'm helping to divorce her husband there every day until she can stand them to hold her instead of just conversation and holding hands."

"Is that what she wants?" I ask. Of course, the Inquisitor doesn't seem the type to force this kind of thing on someone…

"She didn't object when I suggested it and she's allowed to call it off whenever she wants." She replies with a small smile. "There are also therapists. Basically people paid to listen to your problems and keep all your secrets under penalty of the work program."

"Ah yes, I've heard of this!" I grin and reach out to flick some free hair away from her face. "Forcing people to work instead of locking them up. But it isn't forever?"

"It's only for as long as your debt takes to be paid-and that's determined by the infrastructure, not the people who own the stuff you broke or whatever." She says. "Maybe you'll want to talk to one of the therapists?"

"Me?" I ask, pointing to myself.

"You cope remarkably well with bad things," she says. And then she lays a hand on my arm and leans close to speak in a low voice. "But everyone deserves to have a safe place where they can go and tell someone everything that bothers them. You wouldn't have to go regularly and if you wanted, you could wear a mask or something. I don't force anyone to give their real names- they're free to wear hoods, give fake names and wear masks, so long as the masks and names are consistent. Can't have one person going to three different therapists with three different names- that'd get confusing." She grins and releases my arm, leaning back away from me. Settling against the wall once more with me. "Just a thought."

I hum, "just a thought."

"Hey, wanna come see the kids with me?" she pushes off the wall and reaches out to grasp my wrist, tugging lightly. Not clenching, not pulling, just an insistent little tug that I could shake off easily.

"You want to introduce me to your children?" I ask with some confusion.

"Well kinda," she shrugs as she leads me down the square. Toward the end of the personal care district and the beginning of the housing districts. There is the orphanage- the Foster House - nestled right up against the wall of Skyhold. "They're orphans, so they could be adopted any time. But if they're not, they're technically wards of the state…I.E. me." She laughs nervously. "I've only ever had siblings, so it was an adjustment, even paying people to take care of them most of the time."

"I can imagine," I respond while marveling over the colorful exterior of the Foster House. Painted up in blues and greens, with golden yellow trim.

The inside is even more astonishing.

My upbringing was…messy. Raised in a whorehouse until I was old enough to be sold to the Crows- by a sometimes cruel, sometimes warm headmistress.

But this? There are enough rooms for each of the children to have all to themselves. The people caring for them have sweet smiles on their faces, not false or forced or cruel in any way. The children laugh and scream and run around with their toys, acquiescing to kisses and hugs when the Inquisitor bends over to give them out.

A few of them stop before me, staring up at me with open mouths and wide eyes.

The Inquisitor notices as I gaze down at them with a cocked brow. She giggles, "pretty, isn't he?"

They nod their heads and reach their hands up toward me, grasping the air. They are so small and squishy-looking… "Ah…hello?"

"Hi," a little girl with blonde hair, much like my own bashfully greets me and keeps glancing down and back up at me.

A boy with riotous brown curls gapes openly at me. And another girl with two differently-colored eyes tilts her head curiously at me. They all look to be under eight years old at the oldest.

"You guys wanna say hello to Messere Zevran?" She calls out to the room, startling me.

"Ah, no- I am not-" I falter and take a step back, but she catches me and hooks her arm around mine to keep me in place. "Nik, really-"

"Just relax, they won't eat you," she giggles. "This is my friend Zevran. Do you want to say hi, everybody?"

The Children all begin to take notice of us then and congregate in a large _mob_ right in front of us. There are a few greetings thrown at me from the gaggle, but they mostly stare at me with open curiosity.

I have no problem with children- of course not. But I have not been around this many in a very long time and I am no longer one of them.

A little boy no older than perhaps, three or four, toddles out of the group and reaches up his hands. Grasping at the Inquisitor. "Mama, I wan'up."

She laughs and reaches down to pick him up and perch him on her hip. Where he immediately rests his head on her shoulder and sticks his thumb in his mouth. "This is Santiago," she tells me. "He was separated from his parents when his village was attacked by Templars." He has dark brown hair that curls just out of control and light brown freckled skin. "Say hello, Santiago."

"H'o." He slurs around his thumb.

She snorts and lightly tugs his thumb from his mouth. "Remember you're supposed to suck your necklace."

He pulls a small leather cord from his shirt collar and pops a little chunk of smooth, treated wood into his mouth. It seems to be…well, it looks like stone. Stone with a wood grain?

"It's really old wood that's turned to stone," she says to my tilting head and inquisitive looks. "He knows he's not to be walking around with it in his mouth, just when he needs to sit down and suck on something. It's not good to, because it could mess up his teeth, but we clean the necklace every morning, noon and night so it's more sanitary than his thumb…"

"Why not simply get him to stop sucking on things if it is bad for him?" I ask.

"He has to be eased off of it and we're still finding him other coping mechanisms he can use," she replies. "Hey kids, I got something to tell you. It's important."

A silence falls over the house as the children stop shoving each other and chattering to give her their whole attention. It takes a minute, really but it is eerie how they simply obey without any hint of a threat of physical discipline.

"I'm gonna leave, day after tomorrow, so I'm saying goodbye now in case I don't see you tomorrow." She smiles when the instant eruption of questions and groaning and 'why can't you stay's' begins. "Guys, come on." She snaps her fingers and they all put their hands over their mouths. "That's right, listening time. So anyway, I'm leaving Merrill in charge of you guys- the nice Dalish lady with the braids in her hair that Varric calls Daisy? But I wanted you to know, Zev will be here too." She reaches over to grasp my shoulder, to my surprise. "If you feel scared or you need somebody bigger and stronger than your teachers and Merrill to protect you, you can find him or Messere Fenris. You remember Fenris?"

There is a clamor of agreement and then gasps as hands again clap over tiny mouths.

She chuckles. "I just wanted you guys to know what he looks like. So be good for your teachers and Merrill, okay?"

I don't believe I've ever had a responsibility quite like this before.

Blinking at the tugging of my hair and looking aside to see little Santiago stroking a lock that's fallen over my shoulder with something like reverence, eyes big and shining with curiosity- I can feel something that feels alarmingly like melting happening somewhere scarily close to my heart.


	129. Chapter 129

"Agh!" Solas staggers back from a blow to the face from a corpse we didn't see and flash-freezes it as he goes down on his knees, hissing in pain.

"Solas?" I call out and walk out of the barrier Dorian has around both of us- forming my own and throwing it over him once I've reached him.

Dorian and Bull are still fighting, Sera somewhere nearby sniping with arrows. There aren't many left for now, so I'm sure we're safe for the moment.

"Ngh." He groans and I can see a lot of blood coming from his left eye. "Nik?"

"I'm here, what is it?" I grasp his wrist and gently pry his hand away from the area, gasping when I see the tiny bits of glass ground into his eyelid. He's got his eye closed tight but I think some might have pierced through anyway. "Hang on, I've got this."

I rummage in my pack for that special numbing solution and uncork it, pouring it over his wound. The first touch of the liquid on his injured eye makes him grit his teeth and inhale sharply- but soon he's sighing in relief. "Thank you."

"Stay still, I've gotta get the glass out while you're still numb," I tell him and tip his chin up with one hand so I can start plucking glass out of his eyelid with the other. I use my marked hand and a pair of pincers form at my fingertips for easier plucking. Like tweezers, but made of magic. Small things like this don't usually give me pain so I should be good.

Once it's all been picked out, I get a poultice and some gauze, soaking the gauze with the red solution and laying it gently over his eye before wrapping it up with a bandage. "We'll change the bandages in a few hours and see if it's any better."

He sighs and lets his head drop, "do you have any of the…what did you call it, the painkiller?"

"Yeah, hang on. We should get you somewhere you can rest first, inside Crestwood, preferably." I can never remember the name of that painkiller potion the Healers make, so everyone's stopped calling it by that name and started calling it what I do. Painkiller.

When I asked, they said- 'it's more satisfying to call it a killer of pain than the ridiculous name we had for it before. Sounds so _effective_.'

I need to talk to people about taking on my words and names for things and throwing away the old ones. I mean, the Elves have their own words for things and don't often use mine, so there's that at least. But Humans are a naturally appropriating culture. If we like something, we take it. So at least they're only taking from me and not the other races of Thedas for now. I'm gonna need to start talking to people about that when I see anything…

Solas throws back half the small vial of painkiller and takes a few deep breaths before opening his other eye and looking at me with a weak smile. "I am out of mana and I would rather not use Lyrium. I suppose I shall have to wait to heal myself until we've had something to eat."

"We're right outside the gates, so it shouldn't be long." I glance up at the giant gate and glare at it. "But they need to open the damn doors."

"They're likely terrified," Dorian saunters past us. "Hello! Living people out here, come to help! Inquisition!"

Bull walks up next to me and glances down, snorting. "Hey, I'm the one with the eyepatch pal. Quit stealin' my thunder."

I huff, Solas chuckles and Sera appears out of nowhere to roll her eyes at us.

"Yes! Thank you very much!" Dorian calls out as the gate doors start slowly opening.

"Dorian get back, they might be trigger-happy." I call out.

He slowly drifts back toward us and I can feel his magic snapping at the air in preparation of putting up a barrier. I didn't think my paranoia could be contagious, but it sure feels like it is.

"Hey Vint, keep your magic in your pants- I'm tingling over here." Bull grumbles.

I can't hold back a laugh at _that_. "Bull!" Dorian is making affronted little noises and that just sets me off worse.

"What? Are you saying you don't feel it?" Bull says with a grin.

I help Solas stand as some guys in falling-apart armor appear in the gap of the gate with crossbows in their hands.

"Inquisition, you said?" One of them calls out.

I lift my hand and flicker my fingertips to show off the glowing mark. "Inquisitor, more specifically. I've got some soldiers moving in to clear and hold positions around the area behind us." I say as I thumb over my shoulder.

They drop their crossbows to their sides and gesture at us to come in. "Thank the Maker you've arrived, the Mayor will speak with you!"

Just the mention of that guy is enough to set my teeth on edge.

* * *

 

Solas POV

The Mayor of Crestwood gave us a cabin in his village to bed down in. It was necessary to cover a hole in the wall with a tent and pin it place to keep the heat in, but otherwise it is perfectly serviceable. I've slept in worse places.

Bull and Sera left to fight more undead and Nik asked Dorian to assign Scouts to watch the Mayor- her behavior when speaking to him was the same as usual, but her eyes seemed to burn with something when she looked at him.

"You seemed to have an issue with the Mayor," I remark as she sits beside me against the wall and passes over a ration of dried, spiced meat.

She sighs and slouches until she's leaning on my shoulder. "He's shady, hiding something. I don't want to let him get away if it turns out this is all his fault due to blood magic ritual or deal with a demon or what-have-you."

Ripping apart the meat and popping pieces in my mouth, I consider this. "It is highly unlikely a non-mage was able to do either of those things without help."

"Not impossible," she mutters.

My mouth curves up and I chew another piece of meat. She always remembers to pack the honey-mustard spiced meats for me. Sweeter and sharper than the smoky flavors she tends to favor. "No, I suppose not."

"How does your eye feel?" she asks.

To be quite honest, I had forgotten about it. Though now that she mentions it, a harsh throb of pain makes me flinch. Inhaling slowly and focusing on my breathing, I respond, "it is manageable." The 'painkiller' has taken the edge off of the pain, at least. "I wish to ask you something."

"Ask away," she replies with amusement. "Why do you still ask to ask things?"

I huff and slouch sideways, turning my head to kiss her temple, "because I know it makes you laugh at me."

"You are such a dork," she responds and curls in to my side.

I lift my arm and wrap it around her, relaxing in the warmth she gives off. "I wished to ask about the fuss you made in the Great Hall that I only heard about after the fact."

"Hm? Oh! The judgment thing? Yeah, Fenris was testing me, I think. And it was part of a test by Leliana, Cullen and Josephine, too." Her voice has an irritable edge to it at the end. "To see if I was Inquisitor material. They planted two criminals who weren't really criminals to see what I'd do with them. Cole said they hadn't done anything, so I let them go."

"You allowed Cole to preside in judgment?" I go still and imagine the looks on the faces of the Nobility when she explained who and what Cole was. And I have no doubt she did. She does not hide.

"Yeah, some people were pissy about it, I let them say why- but most of 'em didn't even have a problem with Cole." She shakes her head and grasps my hand on her waist, pulling it further around herself and lacing our fingers together. And there is the familiar burn of her skin against mine. "They were pissed off I let the Elves go."

"What exactly did they do that needed judging?" I ask, squeezing her fingertips between mine and stroking her wrist with my thumb.

She shivers so minutely I almost miss it, every time I pass my thumb over the inside of her wrist.

Her voice becomes mocking, "oh they didn't do as a Noble told them to do, or they called them a name or they told them they were brats. And the only reason Josephine couldn't let them out and tell the Nobles to go fuck themselves is because _I_ hadn't set a precedent yet- so I gave her a preliminary set of rules and regulations to use with my signature and shit so she wouldn't have to come to me for everything…and they left them down there that whole time without telling me because they wanted to see how long it'd take me to care about them." Her tone is irritated, again. "I forget things that aren't in front of my face a lot. They should've told me this was happening."

"I heard you appointed someone to watch over those taken in for judgment, to protect them from the Scouts?" I use my other hand to run my fingers through her hair, careful to move slowly as my vision is somewhat…misleading at the moment.

"I got all the servants, human and nonhuman who were put in the holding cells to come down to the kitchens to feed them the best pastries I could make before we left- and I gave them hazard pay."

Her body relaxes against me and she shudders when I tug her hair. Interesting. "And?"

"And they had bruises," she says with a quiet intensity. "I got them to tell me who'd done it, but it took a lot of bribery and I had to assign some of my most trusted Soldiers to guard them until I hunted them all down. They've been put into the work program now, working off the healer bills and the hazard pay I gave the servants- and once that's over, I'm putting them through sensitivity training _again_. I've added some stuff since the first course and I think I should make _everyone_ go through it again."

"Something has occurred to me," I disentangle my hand from her hair and smirk at the discontented noise she makes. "You have been alienating an alarming number of Nobles who donate to the Inquisition. And yet you do not seem worried we will run out of coin."

"Oh I've got a few guaranteed donations from Nobles who think of themselves as 'progressive' and are trying to adapt my model for Skyhold to their estates," she surprises me by noting. Then she ticks points off her fingers. "Plus, if they withdraw their money because I told them they were acting like children, it kind of proves my point and anyone who doesn't like them will capitalize on it and might even seek to donate some coin to make up for it while showing off to everyone how much more 'reasonable and progressive' they are than their rival."

She lifts her head and looks up at me with a smile, "plus I just signed a treaty with King Alistair. And he says if I liberate places from demons, blood mages or anything else magical and 'unholy'-" her eyes roll "-then I'm free to take what resources I need from the place I saved in order to make up for what I spent to save it. Within reason, of course." She shrugs, "and if the people have no problem with it, I can occupy the region with my forces. I agreed to leave if there was a majority vote to oust my soldiers."

"That is…something, but it does account for our sudden wealth," we have been expanding and innovating far too much for a handful of donations and scavenged goods to account for it. We would be at the same level of wealth we were when the Inquisition first began.

"Oh I forgot to tell you?" her brow furrows and her eyes dart across the air as if reading something. "Varric and I wrote a book together under a fake name and it's selling really well. Plus the magical pastries and clothes we have pretty much a monopoly on-…we're like, billionaires. We don't even need donations anymore."

I am caught between staring at her and asking… "what?"

"I could've sworn I told you, but maybe I only _meant_ to." She bites her lip and gives me a wary look. "I use the extra funds to upgrade parts of the fortress and buy special armor and weapon materials- exotic fruits and spices…and I've been buying property in a lot of different places- for housing my soldiers, scouts or for triage centers…Solas?"

I've been so involved in my own duties- and it did not occur to me to ask. I laugh a bit, shakily. "I suppose it was only a matter of time." This organization is entirely too large and prosperous. I know she intends to dissolve it at some point in the future…but what if the people refuse to disband?


	130. Chapter 130

"We apologize for this, your holiness," the three people kneeling on the floor in front of me are like…really groveling. "We didn't know anyone was coming and we just-we thought-"

And I'm tired and dirty and slow to react, so it takes me a minute to even realize what's going on.

"Ahhh…polyamorous relationship," I sigh. "Maybe you shoulda picked a location not surrounded by like…a hundred bandits?" Really that's just stupid. I mean, it's like a bunch of teenagers having sex in the woods when there's an axe murderer running around. Besides the bandits there are the demons and corpses…and stuff.

The girls sit up far enough to look at me, though the blonde one puts her head back down when she sees the brunette set to address me.

The brunette is a pretty thing with light topaz skin and hazel eyes. I could see her modeling my fall and winter clothes. "We…we were only intending to get away from the village…we…I'm so sorry, your Worship." There are tears in her eyes and they're all shaking.

And that's when it clicks that they aren't apologizing to me for doing something stupid like having sex in the middle of enemy territory- they think I _disapprove_.

And I just can't help it, I bust out laughing. "I don't give a shit if you're all in a relationship!" I giggle uncontrollably for a minute and I can see through my squint-y eyes that they're all lifting their heads to glance at each other in confusion. "The Maker tried to entice Andraste out of a _marriage_ for god's sake!" I might shriek it a little- I can't stop laughing.

There's a little pause in the room as I catch my breath. "Your worship?" the blonde girl looks up at me, face pale with patches of rosy pink, freckled and brown-eyed. She would be a good model for my summer dress line.

"Yes?" I ask with a raised brow.

"I…don't understand," she says, slowly.

I clear my throat and shake my head, my expression stuck in 'about to laugh' position, "don't understand what?"

"Is…is love not sacred between two people? Are we not committing sacrilege?" The man finally raises his head to say, though still looking at the floor.

I snort, "no. Love is sacred because it's an uncontrollable force. You could fall in love with anyone, any number of people for any number of reasons. I mean…" I can't help but chuckle. "Trying to control love is like trying to control sexuality, gender or something else that just…is what it is. You are who you are and you love who you love. Why would you think it's sacrilegious?"

There's less stark terror and shame, but they're all still kind of slumping there. The brunette speaks again, for all of them, "our…our parents…caught us all, once." She chews her lip and wrings her hands. "We weren't…doing this-" she gestures at their half-naked states and flushes deep red. "We were in Oliver's house, the one he just finished building- we were all going to live together. Oliver and Bea would get married and I'd be their maidservant. There was even an extra room built on the house for appearances."

"But Lira and Oliver got caught kissing and then Lira and me did- and so they came to the cabin to confront us for our…'heathen ways'," the blonde girl who is apparently named Bea, says. "We told them we all loved each _other_ and they…they said it was wrong and we were forbidden to see each other, Lira and me and Lira and Oliver. I'm still set to marry Oliver, but…" She sends moony eyes at Lira. "It's just not…the same."

Lira reaches out and grasps Bea's hand. "This was supposed to be…well, if we died because of the Undead…we wanted to have at least a few memories of being together, alone. We had dinner together- we…" Her lips shiver. "I suppose we'll just have to go back to the village, now."

"Mmmno," I hum with a heavy blink. "I took Caer Bronach and I'm setting up an Inquisition outpost. I'll need people to work there, so you can all just go work for me there. And if you want, I can marry you. Holy word of the Herald of Andraste- breaking that up would be more sacrilegious than your parents'd prolly be willing to- oof!"

Lira's basically tackled my mid-section, "thank you, your Worship, your Holiness, thank you!" I gotta stumble to stay on my feet.

I groan and bend double a bit to pat her back. "Hmmm…for now…anybody know where we could find a bath and a bed?"

It's a testament to how exhausted we all were that Solas and Sera said nothing while this whole exchange was going on.

Lira and Bea happily show me and Sera to a leaky-creaky room upstairs while Oliver shows Solas to another one. There are tubs in the rooms, not all that big and only one person can fit at a time- plus I have to magic the water out of thin air because I _really_ don't wanna go down and get the water from the overflowing lake outside.

I can feel the shiver of magic through the walls that says Solas is doing the same.

Sera goes first because I'm still engaged with taking off my clothes and separating out the somewhat-clean pieces from the muddy-gross pieces and wiping off the metal bits with a rag from my pack and oiling them with that tiny vial in one of my belt pouches. I even start doing hers for something to keep me awake and alert for a bit longer.

"Your Worship?" Bea and Lira are sitting on either side of me now, both helping to clean the gunk off our armors and Bea even seems to be rubbing mud out of the grooves in Sera's bow. I didn't even notice they were there. Bea is the one who spoke, I think.

I turn to her and tilt my head, "hm?"

"I was wondering what kind of duties we'd be expected to take up in your outpost," she says.

"Hm…the usual," I blink slowly and rub my face with my hand. My glove is the part that got dirty, so my hand isn't smearing mud all over my face, at least. Don't really think I'd care at this point. "Maids…cooks…soldiers…artisans…"

"I make pottery," Bea says. "Bowls and jars and things…is that useful?"

I yawn, "sure. Can you make inkwells?"

"I'm sure I could if I tried," she responds.

"Well, my family is filled with Butchers," Lira says from the other side. I turn to her and smile a little at the way her nose wrinkles. "But I think I'd rather be a maid."

"What's Oliver do?" I ask slowly, rolling my shoulders

Bea and Lira both look at each other and sigh dreamily, "he hunts…"


	131. Chapter 131

"What are we going to do with it? Him? I'm not sure what to call them." Dorian is looking at our newest addition with something like confusion.

"I am Righteous Fury," our new friend lifts his head to say, peering at Dorian from across the room under blood red bangs with golden-orange eyes.

"I think he's asking if you prefer he, she or they for a pronoun," I respond. I'm currently focused on the missives Leliana sent with updates from Skyhold and elsewhere- as well as a list of things Lira, Bea and Oliver need for their wedding ceremony. They want to do it in town. "As well as what name you'd like to take. Do you prefer we just keep calling you Righteous Fury?"

Hell, if my parents did the kind of shit to me as theirs did to them, I'd probably want to rub my new marriage in their face, too.

"I do not require other names," he replies, looking irritable. His brows are naturally arched to make him look that way, though.

"Can we shorten it to 'fury' or not?" I ask calmly as I thumb through some reports from the areas beyond Crestwood.

Just this morning we finally sealed the rift in Old Crestwood. But before we could, Solas and I had to talk a bunch of spirits into walking back into it- and Righteous did _not_ want to go before he could get his hands on the Mayor of Crestwood. He was going to corrupt, so I had to…do _something_.

He took form, I blacked out and then woke up in the damn caves where the rift was waiting to be sealed with Solas and Dorian sitting uneasily around a small fire with Righteous standing guard over my body…wearing a pair of pants and nothing else. He still hasn't put on a shirt, doesn't really seem to like shoes and even seems to be uncomfortable in the pants.

Dorian only got him to wear them after a long-ass argument, apparently. It never occurred to me that spirits could dislike clothes that much, but then again this is a variation of anger. My clothes itch and burn against my skin when _I'm_ pissed off…

He grunts, "I care not." So 'Fury' it is, then.

Solas is still giving me that cold shoulder he always gives me when he thinks I'm being reckless. Stone-faced, cool demeanor and short, succinct answers to questions.

It's effective, but it's not going to change anything. You can't change a knee-jerk reaction without years and years of practice and this particular reaction has always been there. I think it's kind of unreasonable to expect me to be so damn changeable. I'm adaptable to a certain degree but this is ridicul-

"Fury, stop fucking projecting!" I put my hands over my eyes and inhale sharply. "I'm trying to think rationally and you are _not_ helping."

"You never let the anger take you," he says. Infuriatingly. "There is a deep well of fury inside. Righteous and otherwise."

"I half-suspected that," Dorian comments casually. "You really shouldn't be influencing her emotions- she's the level-headed leader and she needs to stay that way." He says this while looking through his own reports from Skyhold, from all his underlings and probably something from Alexius.

"I disagree," Solas says smoothly from his place across the cabin, tending to his own reports and orders to be sent out. "But yes, while we are in the field is an incredibly bad time."

"What did you want me to do!?" I suddenly burst out and find myself on my feet. "Just let him turn into a demon and let the others kill him?" I push my hands into my temples and grit my teeth. " _Stop_ it or you'll find yourself on the wrong end of a _fireball_!" I turn to shout that at Fury.

And then the tether snaps and I feel cold, the anger shoved back into its usual box. But without the anger, there's just everything else.

Sadness, frustration and confusion chief among them. I huff and drop my quill pen into the ink well, stomping out of the cabin. I'm able to keep my tears in until I've left, but I can only stagger into a half-collapsed cabin nearby and crawl into the spaces between broken bits of wood before it all comes pouring out.

Silent tears running down my face, shivering limbs, stomach fluttering and lurching. I breathe into the space between my knees, gripping my shins with my fingers tight.

* * *

 

Solas POV

I couldn't do anything but watch her walk out of the cabin, stunned and confused. "Nik?" But she is already out the door.

Dorian sighs and stands from his seat, "I'm going to see if the preparations for the wedding are on schedule." And then he leaves as well.

I stand confused for a long moment before Righteous Fury deigns to speak.

"You make her angrier than anyone, you know." He informs me. "Everything she does is wrong or not right _enough_ and when you don't get your way or you disapprove, you _ignore_ her. Drives her mad."

"I do not ignore her," I say and halt. "I…get lost in my thoughts."

"And in the process you ignore her," he stands from his seat against the opposite wall and stretches, sighing in relief when his new joints crack. "I have never thought a physical body could be this…freeing and satisfying."

"Freeing?" Physical bodies have always struck me as confining. Ever since I first…became flesh.

"Is there anything more freeing than being able to do this?" He picks up the ink well on Nik's desk and begins tracing the small textured designs on the small jar. "Pick something up, _feel_ its texture- not simply a memory, not in any way but how _I_ feel it?" He grins a toothy smile and puts down the ink well.

"I suppose…but do you not feel stifled?" I ask. "You cannot change things the way you could in the Fade."

"Do you know what gets old?" Righteous Fury sighs, "everything changing all the time. Not because you wanted it to but because everyone else around you has an idea what something should be. Here? Here, things stay the same- it's the way you see them in your own mind that's different. But that doesn't affect how other people see it unless you _share_ that vision, through words or with pictures drawn or sculpted from clay…even then if you refuse to see it in any new way…well."

His expression changes then to one of chagrin, "ah…I perhaps stopped too suddenly."

I frown and tilt my head, "what?"

"I believe she is sobbing, now. I can barely feel her at all." He replies.

And so I put down my work and get up to leave the cabin. "I will find her."

"Be sure you show anything but calm when you get there." He replies as I crest the doorway. "That's all she's been getting from you all day and it's liable to piss her off."

Interesting how well-adjusted he is. Perhaps he has observed physical people up close before?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys are having a bad day, go to my new sideblog, ComfortingCompanions.tumblr.com
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> I take requests-- and even if I don't write your request, I'll post it up with a request for someone else to, and it might still get written.
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> Anyway, I've written a few drabbles to start it off for Dragon Age and Mass Effect. You can see the list of fandoms I intend to do and which characters I'll personally write for on the informational page labeled Request and Submission Info you Need to Know.
> 
> You can also Submit some small drabbles to me-- but you need to read that page before you do so.


	132. Solas POV

I reach out for her soul and find her in an old, broken cabin. She has wedged herself underneath and between broken planks of wood.

I stand and stare at the small glimpse of her I have- her arm shivering and shaking violently. I can hear her gasping breaths and the stifled sobs and screams that get caught in her throat.

' _I did this?_ ' It has been a very long time since my opinion mattered to someone this much. Any small action or perceived action that I take or do not take has an effect on her.

That thought is incredibly daunting and I also begin to feel as though the world is suddenly too bright to keep my eyes open and there is too much effort to expend to-ah.

I get down on my hands and knees and crawl through the detritus to get to her as she drowses on the edge of sleep. I try to be as silent as possible while still making small noises to alert her to my presence. I do not want to startle her, but loud noises feel…unnecessary and incredibly distressing at the moment. " _Are you alright?_ "

Her head lifts from her knees so she can look aside at me, that blankness settling over her like a blanket. She closes off her soul from mine as she usually does when she feels like this.

"Not really," she responds. "But I'll get back to normal eventually." She rolls her eyes. "My version of normal, anyway."

" _I did not intend to ignore you,_ " I cannot keep myself from slipping behind my calm mask, but my voice will always show how I feel. It is one of the many things that always vexes me. It escapes me with melancholy dripping from it, guilt gilding it. " _It was pointed out to me that I may have done so._ " Speaking in Elvhen adds another layer to the words I speak. It is a language wreathed in magic and conveys more than you could ever intend it to.

"May have?" She asks, sardonic and…strange.

When she is lost to the numbness, she is not normally so…negative. Simply blank and logical. I…believe I prefer this to that. She is still feeling something like this, at least.

" _I was lost to my thoughts and I…forgot that you pay any attention to me, to be quite honest._ " Pulling myself in further and sitting close but not close enough to touch- I sigh and shake my head. " _I have been with you for months and I am still…not used to this…_ " searching for the words…it is difficult.

She is quiet for a moment, "that actually makes sense to me. Jerk." She mutters the insult without any actual irritation and I am actually relieved to hear it. "You try so hard to melt into the background and you mostly succeed. Must be weird to be consistently noticed by people." She is completely deadpan, but I am relieved.

" _Yes, it is_." I reply, softly. She has no idea.

Long before I needed to disappear into the background, I preferred to remain unseen in a crowd. As much as I stood out, my manner was mild and meek- people knew I was there, but they didn't take note of me.

She always takes note of me, and that is new. Frightening.

"Where'd you go?" She leans into my side and peers up at me from a pair of half-lidded eyes. "Do you think about _Elvhenan_ when you get all faraway like that?"

She pronounces _Elvhen_ words correctly even if she is speaking the rest of her sentence in common. Likewise when she asks Dorian questions about places that have been named in Arcanum or Leliana and Vivienne about things with Orlesian monikers.

"Why do you ask that?" I slip back into Common and realize I am doing so to distance myself. The question discomfits me, but I cannot say why. Other than her uncanny ability to see through me.

"Because you don't do that very often and when you do…it's usually in response to something that you've said is different. Like how magic is different or talking about memories in the Fade- or even about how the food has changed." Her lips twist. "You know I tried using Fade magic to make cakes once? Everything kind of exploded and it sounded like it was screaming."

I snort and a hand covers my face. "Why…?"

"Just experimenting," she shrugs and a small smile appears on her face. "I taught the mages how to beat eggs with force magic but the first few times we just broke bowls and threw eggs everywhere."

I chuckle and take the chance to wrap my arm around her shoulders, turning to kiss the top of her head when she shifts over to settle against me more firmly. "It's hard to believe you do not simply get everything right the first time."

"The only things I've ever really just instinctively gotten better at is writing and…well, art." She lifts a hand and begins to trace designs over my knee, drawn up close to my body as hers are. "I have a natural inclination toward creative things. Expressing thoughts in words and pictures on a page…"

"You seem to like exploring different modes of communication, I suppose that is part of the reason." I reply and curl my arm around her more tightly. "I heard about the first assignment you gave our new Arcanist."

"Oh the communicators, yeah." She responds. "I want our lieutenants to be able to communicate with their commanders so that even if someone falls in battle, people can still receive instructions if they get the communicator off of them. And so they can call for help."

"It will be an innovation that could change the world, you realize. If she is able to do as you asked?" She does so much to change everything without considering the wider repercussions. All she sees is the good that can be done. She attempts to mitigate the damage that can be done as well, but it is…often very focused on certain acts of violence rather than on the smaller schemes or greater frameworks.

"Well it'll only be an innovation in size and production. The crystals already exist," she replies. "I just want them to go on a thing you can attach to your face so you can be hands-free and for it to be smaller so that you can maybe hide it as a set of earrings or a ring or something…"

"I suppose that would be helpful for agents," I say. "But you know if they are captured and their communicators confiscated, your enemies could discover how it was done and duplicate it."

"I asked for her to put in some kind of failsafe. Magic can recognize individual people pretty easily so it wouldn't be hard to have it self-destruct if someone it doesn't recognize tries to touch it." she says. "But I intend for her to mass-produce them someday. For everyone to use. We can give everyone a means to call for help or talk to each other."

I suppose I should simply expect this by now, "I see."

"What?" She tilts her head up and blinks at me. "What do you see?" Her brows are furrowed.

Mine follow suit. "I…was simply acknowledging your thoughts. I have no further words to add."

"Oh," she blinks and sighs. "Okay."

I feel I've missed something, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having some troubles coming up with ideas for my new Comforting Companions Sideblog...you guys got any fluffy or uplifting ideas I could use to write some drabbles?


	133. Chapter 133

The wedding was beautiful.

Dorian threw enchantments around that would spray memory petals all the time and sparkle and spew butterflies- like the Butterfly Sword but they looked like actual butterflies before they'd disappear into thin air. Instead of little pink phantoms.

Lira and Bea both wore beautiful dresses. Bea's was extravagant and obviously the dress her family had paid for. It was green with beautiful embroidery in blue. They weren't there to see the wedding so I'm assuming their disapproval didn't wane. She seemed to be fine with that. I think she's probably had a rocky relationship with them for a while.

I had one of the Tailors in town help me alter one of my own dresses for Lira- something I have to take around with me so Vivienne doesn't have a heart attack, thinking of me addressing nobles and dignitaries in my field armor. It's black and simple with just a touch of cleavage and the straps are off-the-shoulder- the hem doesn't reach the ground so I had the tailor add a train of lace that sort of peek-a-boo'ed her legs, it was gorgeous.

Her family didn't attend either and I think it really hurt her. Her relationship with her family was apparently a lot better than Bea's.

Oliver just wore his new uniform for the Scouts- and since people get married in my world in military uniforms, it just kinda made sense to me.

Afterwards, "interesting how your people signify a bond." Solas and I are alone or he'd never risk talking like that.

We're sitting in one of the empty rooms of Caer Bronach, resting and reading and writing our letters before heading out to meet up with Hawke, Varric and Hawke's Gray Warden contact.

I glance up and lift a brow, "you mean weddings? There wasn't even anything out of the ordinary about this one."

"Weddings in general seem odd to me," he replies. "We had no such ceremonies. You were bonded or you were not."

"You didn't want to celebrate finding someone to share your life with?" And then I had to correct myself, "well. I mean, it started out as a way to buy and sell women so I guess-" Or is that just my world?

"Ah," he chuckles. "You are operating under the delusion that Slaves were able to bond."

I blink, "I'd assume they'd had to have families to reproduce and make more slaves."

"Yes," he nods with his head tilting sideways a bit. "But they were not bonded, they were bred."

I blink, "I forget horrible-things-that-have-probably-happened, a lot."

"Yes that seems to be a theme with you," he responds. "That is why you obsess over such things is it not? So your mind will not erase the information?"

I sigh, "you need to stop getting better at that."

"At what?" he asks.

"Reading me, it's weird. I'm the only one allowed to unnerve people like that," I pout. "And I mean…then why didn't the Nobles celebrate it?"

"Finding love was not difficult unless you loved a slave, and even then you could do as you liked with them," he says with a strangely faraway look on his face. "If you had children with them, you could have them declared your heirs as they were your blood, but they would renounce their other parent's lineage in the process."

"So you could either belong to your Noble parent or your Slave parent but never both at the same time, ugh." I wrinkle my nose. "I don't know why you miss Arlathan so much."

"It isn't the Nobles I miss," he responds. "The slaves were…different. Many different cultures all brought under the heel of despots and clinging to everything of home they could keep in their hands."

"Tell me about them?" I ask.

He glances up, "I do. Frequently."

"No. You tell me all about the magic and souls and stuff but you don't often talk about cultural things." I respond. "Tell me about what their religious practices were, how did they raise their kids, what were-"

"I get the idea, _Fenlin_." He's amused, the ass.

"Then talk, ya smirky jackass," I retort.

So he did.

And he painted a picture of so many nations that he couldn't even remember the names of all of them- covered with color and life and bursting with energy. Magical and otherwise.

"So wait wait- an entire nation worked magic through song?" I snort. "God, Disney." I sigh when he gives me a quizzical look. "It's nothing. Inside joke. Um…what else?"

"There was a very small country of elves that worked elemental magics almost exclusively," he responds. "They themselves took on appearances similar to what Humans see when they interact with Demons." He says this with hesitation, says it slowly. So it's important or he's worried about revealing something. 

"Do you see something different?" I ask, eyes widening.

He pauses and hums, "slightly…"

"Can you show me?" I sit fully up and discard my letters.

He huffs in amusement, "I could, but we should finish-"

"Oh fuck that, I'm burning with curiosity, show me!" I get up and bounce over to his side of the room, sitting on the edge of his bed and grinning when he sighs at me.

Then he leans over the edge of the bed, grabbing one of his sketchbooks and turning to a page before handing it to me. "Don't snoop," he says and goes back to his letters.

I'm awestruck.

Desire demons look…androgynous isn't enough of a word for it. They have curves that seem womanly, but also a flat chest and musculature that's masculine. It's like…the perfect merging of masculine and feminine and…non-gendered-ness. "Wow…" they still have those antler-like things on their heads but they're much prettier and more decorative-looking than threatening-looking. "They're beautiful!"

I move on to the fear demons next.

Terror, horror, whatever you wanna call 'em…they look so small and afraid. "They're…oh. That makes more sense." After all, a demon of fear feeds on fear, but that doesn't mean it's doing so gleefully. "Oh…that's just awful." It's the Thedosians that have made them this way, isn't it? They see a demon feeding on their fear and assume it would want to create more.

But this small, green-skinned child-looking thing…with big, wide open eyes that seem to wobble with tears. My heart feels like it's constricting in my chest.

And the Despair demons? They're weeping. They're fairly androgynous, as the desire demons. They have long, unkempt hair and it's obvious their eyes never open because they're constantly clenched up in an expression of misery. "Oh god…" My hand settles over the image and I realize I'm crying when the Sketchbook is taken out of my hands.

"Nik, you are not breathing." Solas's expression isn't worried like it usually is when I do this kind of thing. There's a deep, understanding commiseration in his expression.

And something horrifying occurs to me, "this isn't what happened to the _Elvhen_ after the Veil, is it?"

And he freezes and I know it's at least partially true.

"It is, isn't it? Some of them got trapped on the other side of the-" I lift my hand to stare at it.

"Nik…" he's looking at me with pinched brows. "You…no. It isn't…that simple."

"Then explain it to me, please." I ask with wide eyes, still with tears probably running down my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter will be a continuation of this chapter from Solas's POV, figured I should warn you first.


	134. Solas POV

"It…it is very complicated-" I do not know how to begin to tell her this without revealing everything about myself.

"Then give me the cliff notes version," she says.

I frown at her, "I have no idea what that means." Her odd turns of phrase are usually self-explanatory but every once in a great while she will say something like this that makes absolutely no sense to me.

She snorts with laughter, through her tears as she wipes them away, "it means give me the simple concept with as few details as possible that can still give me the full picture."

Relief overcomes me, "alright."

So I take a moment to gather my thoughts and glance at the Sketchbook she became so emotional over.

I pull it into my lap again and flick through the pages, tilting it away from her- I am not ready for her to see all of the sketches of herself in many guises.

I have put much thought into what her nature might be. Love, Compassion, Responsibility…I have yet to find anything that feels… _right_.

"This is…what we used to look like," I slide the sketchbook back to her and watch her expression.

I did before, as well, though not as openly. Her reactions were much more… _more_ , than I expected.

And now she traces a careful fingertip over the page without touching it, following the lines of the body shapes I've drawn.

"Fish people," she says with wide eyes, lips staying parted after she speaks. "fire people, Halla people…"

"We became what we desired to be," I tell her. "If we desired to live in the sea, we adapted to sea life. If we desired to live on land, we adapted to that life as well."

"Is that why elves and humans look so much alike?" she looks at me with a focused expression. Open and curious. "You guys just…started adapting?"

"That was part of it," I respond with a furrowed brow. "Our adaptation to the land, our adaptation to the humans when…when we began to decline." This is not only difficult to condense, but difficult to speak of at all.

"So what are the Demons and Spirits really?" she asks.

I breathe deeply and slowly, "they are those who wished to live without physical form. And those… _descended_ from those."

"Descended?" Her brow pushes together in confusion. "I thought spirits were born of emotion?"

I chuckle breathily, my stomach in knots. "They are."

"So…I'm confused," she blinks slowly and looks back down at the sketchbook. "I mean…the emotions themselves come from within people, not…like…some divine entity. Right?"

"I don't know that I can answer such a question," I feel my mouth attempting to smile, but it wavers. "What I mean is that…all spirits and demons belong to the same people, no matter where they come from. Those that wish to possess or create their own bodies are…of a different sort, but still the same people."

"A culture and its sub-cultures," she mutters.

"I suppose you could put it that way," I respond. "The _Elvhen_ referred to all people in the _Elvhen_ empire…in _Elvhenan_ …but not all elves were _Elvhen_."

Disbelief, realization and then horror spread over her face, "oh…my god. They're really _not_ your people."

I clench my fingers together in my lap, "no, they are not."

"I always thought you were being pretentious!" she says with panic obvious in her tone. "Why didn't you _say_ something?"

"What would you have me say?" I ask, smiling but shaking.

"I'd have you stand up and say, 'hey you're totally wrong about this and this is the reason why'!" she exclaims. "You have no problem doing it any other time!"

"I have only recently begun to be comfortable speaking with you about being an _ancient Elvhen_." I breathe deeply and swallow. "I have not shared this much of myself with _anyone_ in…a very long time."

"Yeah but I was being a bitch and you could've just said 'hey you know there were other cultures in that country I was talking about?'" she sighs. "Thank you for telling me. And I'm sorry for stubbornly insisting the Dalish and the City elves and the Slaves in Tevinter were your people when they weren't."

"Thank you-" I say haltingly.

"But," she inhales. "My points still stand anyway." Her gaze is very pointed. "They don't have to be _your_ people to be people."

My lips press together and I sigh harshly, "I know."

"Do you?" her expression is confused and skeptical… it makes something clench in my chest to see it.

"Yes, I do." I lick my lips and look away and then look back at her, unsure where to look, what to look _at_. "I will admit that after everything…collapsed…after I first met humans and elves…I thought them hollow husks."

"And that's…different now?" there is a slowly dawning look of hope on her face and it crushes me to think she knew this.

"How did you know?" I ask suddenly. "How did you know I didn't consider them people? How did you know I didn't consider the elves _my_ people," I ask the last question as it suddenly occurs to me that we've never spoken of it as such.

And she looks me dead in the eyes and opens her mouth…and then closes it, frown coming over her face. "I don't want to dodge that question. But you have to do something for me."

My heart thumps at the back of my throat, "what?" She could ask anything of me and I would likely not refuse.

"Don't run away," she says. She is staring into my eyes as she only rarely does. "Don't leave without saying goodbye and don't dump me to protect me from you, I hate that kind of shit."

My brows furrow and my mouth opens, and then it closes. "Has that happened to you before?" I finally find myself asking.

"Yes and no," she responds. "You have to promise before I can tell you."

It is a terrifying thing she asks, "you are asking me to stay regardless of whether or not…"

"You wanna dump me because we aren't clicking, that's fine, but if you care about me and you leave to 'protect' me from something without my consent, that's just shitty." she replies.

"I don't know that I…" I halt at the look on her face, crumpled and blank. "Nik, I-"

"I won't tell you anything until you can promise me you're not going to use it as an excuse to escape me and go off into the woods alone to punish yourself for things that happened a long-ass time ago." She says, standing and walking back to her side of the room. "We should get these finished."

"Nik," I stand up and follow after her, a hand cupping her shoulder while the other grasps her waist.

Her back is to me and I can feel her shaking as much as I am.

"What if you were the one to run?" I ask her.

"If I ran, I'd expect you to come after me." she responds. "Because clearly I wouldn't be in my right mind."

I laugh softly and mostly in my throat, "can you promise me that who I am…will not scare you away either?"

She huffs, "yes."

"You don't even know-" I shake my head.

She turns around and cups my face, pulling me down to press our foreheads together.

And then she lifts her marked hand in the air beside us so that I can see it- and stares into my eyes as it sparks insistently. "I know."

I believe that is the moment my heart drops out of my body but I could be mistaken. I can still feel it in my throat, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go in this conversation, I swear to god I didn't see this coming as much as you guys.


	135. Chapter 135

Is this how this feels from the outside?

I panicked when Solas kinda fell to his knees on the floor, thinking maybe was passing out, but he was just gasping for breath while tears ran down his face so- panic attack. Or just regular old relief attack. I mean, he seems relieved-

I had one of those once, so I know what it looks like. Except when I had mine, I laughed until I cried. I couldn't stop. This…this is a shaky, sorta quiet kind of relief.

He only asks one question while he's kneeling and I've got my arms wrapped around him. "H-how…long?"

"Since…before I met you?" I respond.

He chokes a little and then goes silent, just leaning on me. His breathing is stilted and hot against my throat where he hides his face.

Slowly as I rub his back with my right hand, the left cupped around the back of his neck…he starts to regain control of his body. His shivering tapers off, his breathing regulates and I can feel his pulse under my lips when I kiss his throat- almost normal.

His hands move up to bury themselves in my hair after a long minute of breathing and getting himself back to baseline.

"Sorry I dumped it on you like that," I say. Then purse my lips in anger at myself. I wasn't supposed to tell him! I was supposed to wait for _him_ to tell _me_. And then if he chickened out or something I could…just tell him I already knew and he would've been prepared for me to _know_ even if he hadn't gone through with it.

He breathes in deeply and then sighs…and then he pulls my head back and starts planting kisses down my throat and then back up from my shoulders to my ear to bite lightly on the edge of my jaw.

I make a shocked little noise and he pulls back to look into my eyes and…there's more on his face and in his eyes than I've ever seen before.

Every emotion he has is showing on his face, there's no effort to hide the half-lidded heat in his gaze or the way his lips twist in a complicated moue that looks simultaneously happy and chagrined and kinda irritated. His brows are bent low but his eyes aren't tight and his ears are pressed close to his head but not flicked back…all over it looks like he just doesn't know _how_ to feel.

"So…" I press my lips together and then open them, closing them again. "I honestly don't know what else to say."

He chuckles then and his expression transforms into something warm and soft and open that straight-up makes my heart stop, I think. "Do I still have to promise to get my answer?" His voice is unsteady and faint.

"Yes," I'm not budging on that. If I'm gonna get fully invested, he'd better be, too.

"Then I will swear on anything you like," he says. Smiling, like an actual smile, not showing his teeth but- god, I've never seen him actually _smile_. Not without some kind of deep hidden pain in his eyes. "I…I am not going anywhere."

And now that he's said it, I feel a lot lighter. He'll hesitate to break his word, he's just that kind of guy. Even if he ends up doing it, I know this way he'll at least pause and think about it seriously first.

"Okay, then ask me whatever you want," I respond with a nervousness that sends tingles up and down my spine. "But don't freak out if you don't like or…understand, the answer."

He takes a deep breath and licks his lips, "where are you from, Nik?"

"Another universe," I answer frankly.

He squints at me, "that did not sound like you were joking."

"You know they exist," I respond with a lifted brow. "The Eluvians go to more places than just Thedas, the Crossroads and the Fade."

He watches me closely for a few more moments, "and in this…universe…are things…is your world…Thedas?"

I shake my head, "no. It's a world called Earth and like I said…no elves. No Dwarves…no Qunari. Just humans all being shitty to each other."

He laces his fingers together, shifts until his legs are in the criss-cross-applesauce position and then rests his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. "I am not shocked by that."

"Yeah I haven't exactly hidden," I respond. "You're…calmer than I thought you'd be, about me knowing about you."

He sighs, "I suppose there were so many signs in hindsight that I half-expected it. And…you don't seem to be angry that I kept it from you."

"It wasn't really any of my business, so no." I respond, wrinkling my nose. "If your being the Dread Wolf would mean the deaths of my friends and you _still_ didn't tell me, then yeah, I'd probably have been miffed at that."

"What else do you know?" he asks so quietly, eyes trained on my own.

I bite my lip, "I know all the vaguest details? You gave the Orb to Corypheus, you intended for him to die but he's effectively immortal. Oh, it's his dragon, by the way." I shrug. "He has some weird magical connection to it, so we're gonna have to kill _it_ before we can kill _him_."

He blinks slowly, "how do you know this, specifically?"

"I know everything that was going to happen from before the Conclave up till we defeat Corypheus." I say. "Where I'm from, we have these…games. The worlds we play in aren't supposed to be real…"

"But we are," his lips quirk up and he begins laughing mirthlessly. "How poignant."

"What?" I frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that…when I came to Thedas, my thought was, 'this is not real' and…" his lips shiver and he shakes his head. "What do you know of my other…plans?"

"You mean taking down the Veil?" I ask.

He exhales shakily, "yes, that."

"I know you intend to take it down, but not how. And you called it the _Din'an'shiral_ in the games. Which is debated to mean you intend to either die or go to the land of the dead- I.E. the Void- to do it." I settle and watch his face.

He just looks down at the floor and one edge of his mouth quirks up, "well you see then. My reaction to thinking Thedas was not real was to…destroy it. Yours was to remake it into a more pleasant image." He huffs a little laugh. "You are better at being me than I am."

"No, I'm just better at being who you _wanna_ be," I respond.

He glances at me in surprise.

I roll my eyes, "you think this incredibly capable individual is _me_? Fuck no. I could barely do household chores when I appeared here. I just knew…there were things that were going to happen and I could use them to my advantage. I knew I could make it better if I could just get up and do something. And as I began to make people see things differently and work together and everything…I started building up more and more steam and it was…intoxicating."

I smile and stare off into space, remembering the exact moment I realized what I could do. "I've always felt so powerless in my life, but here- here I could do things, be things that I couldn't be, there. Here I could help people. And if it _was_ a dream, it would be a very good dream that I'd remember forever. If it wasn't, then I wouldn't regret anything because I'd done what I could to make it all…just… _better_."

I sigh and look back to him, finding his eyes on me, "and I know it's what you would do if you were me. I knew if you were suddenly in Ancient Arlathan again, knowing everything that had happened- you'd probably work things around until you could subvert every bad thing that ever happened and still complete your goals and do good things. That seemed…like something you really wanted to do."

"It was," he responds softly. His eyes are down again. "…what do we do now?"

I laugh a little, "god, I don't know. Whatever we want?"

His eyes flick up and he's suddenly looking at me from under half-lowered eyelashes. "And what is it you want?"

I flush and dip my head, "for Thedas to be as happy and stable as I can make it, to help you see another way to do things…and...to just…be with you?"

"Another way to do things," he says slowly. "You know of a way? To…take down the Veil?"

"To free the Evanuris and bring them back to their old selves before the corruption?" I ask. "I might have some ideas for that, yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this is the end of this particular conversation but it's not the last time they'll talk about this, obviously. Hehe. How you guys like it?


	136. Chapter 136

Everything's been happening so much lately - surprising me - and I really don't want it to stop.

"Nathaniel, please put the bow down." Hawke walks in from behind me, waving his hand at Nathaniel Howe's upraised bow. "I brought the Inquisitor. And her Arcane Advisor," he mutters and then turns to wink at me.

I glare at him as my face heats up, "ass." And then I clear my throat and greet the Gray Wardens in the cave with gusto. "Nathaniel Howe! Good to meet you! As well as you, Lady Velanna."

The Dalish elf inclines her head but only so she can look down her nose at me, I think. Awesome.

"Oghren," I nod to the dwarf and he nods seriously back. He doesn't look drunk, so that's probably good? "Sigrun." The dwarven woman grins brightly and looks up from her rummaging in a trunk for only a moment to do so. "And Loghain."

' _Alistair is king and Loghain's been spared and made a Gray Warden? How the hell did Yelena pull_ _ **that**_ _off?_ '

He purses his lips at me, "Inquisitor."

"Ahhh, I'm from an _Orlesian_ Inquisition, right?" I grin.

He humphs, "you sound like a Free Marcher."

"And I'm neither Free Marcher nor Orlesian, funny how that works." I reply with a little bit of a smirk.

"Creators," Velanna mutters. "She talks to him like Yelena does."

"I'll ignore the tone and pretend that was a compliment," I quip happily. "How did you all smuggle yourselves here without anyone noticing? Or well, I guess _someone_ noticed, there _were_ Gray Wardens out looking for you guys."

"More of them?" Sigrun asks, bouncing over. Well, she walks but it's so… _bouncy_. "Well I guess they've finally figured out we're in the area, at least."

"The people here would have been long overcome if we hadn't helped them," Loghain says. "But in our endeavors, we left evidence of our presence."

"It matters not _now_ , I suppose." Nathaniel has his bow on his back now, and he's fingering it over his shoulder anxiously.

Solas walks up next to me and my whole body seems to want to lean into him. I can feel my soul reaching out and clinging to his with a force that kinda shocks me. I hadn't intended to do that.

He doesn't react, but I can feel his soul reaching back, soothing my anxieties with a few soft touches that are there but also not there. "I believe the Herald has information for you," he says.

I blank for like half a second and then jump into it with both feet. "Oh! Yeah, I do." I clear my throat and fidget as I talk. "The Calling you can all hear is fake. Corypheus is using the blight to manipulate the Gray Wardens."

There's a moment of complete silence and then the whole cave _erupts_ with conversation.

Varric is standing off to the side with Hawke, sighing and shaking his head.

"I _knew_ this wasn't right," Loghain says with clenched fists.

Nathaniel has started pacing in tight circles, "how? How is he doing it?"

Velanna and Sigrun are arguing about _something_ but they're mostly speaking at the same time so I can't really pick out their individual opinions.

I clear my throat and then sigh, dropping my head and lifting the mark. It sparks loudly, sounding like some kind of huge snapping rubber band.

The room goes quiet, mostly because everyone's drawn their weapons and is staring at me with wide eyes when I look up. "Everyone shut up, I haven't explained everything yet."

There's a collective sigh as people put their weapons away but- Nathaniel is eyeing me with suspicion and his bow is still out.

"Okay, so…" I take a deep breath and cross my arms. "First of all, Corypheus…whether or not he was one of the original darkspawn magisters, he is a magister darkspawn so he's got control of the Blight to some extent and all blighted creatures in some way- _except_ Gray Wardens." I shrug, "the only way he can control you guys is probably through some other kind of coercion. He probably used the false Calling to manipulate the others and yes, I know about Clarel and how you came to be fugitives. So rather than recapping things perhaps we should simply make plans to meet up again wherever it is you think we should be going?"

I'm antsy. So antsy, why am I so-

Solas leans into my side and his soul flutters around mine at the edges in a very soothing motion. "Breathe, _sa'lath_."

My heart thumps and I think I might blink a few too many times, but oh my god. He keeps saying that. Ever since this morning he's started calling me _sa'lath_.

Which you know, heart flutter, but seriously right _now_?

I glance up at Velanna, the only person who probably knows what that word means and catch her watching the both of us with suspicion.

' _An elf who looks like he came from a city speaking Elvhen endearments to a human woman, yeah that isn't weird._ ' I sigh and rub my forehead.

"I think we should split up," Hawke leans back against the cave wall. "Some of us go with the Inquisitor to make arrangements, some of us go to check out the leads we have in the Western Approach."

"Yes!" I say with some real enthusiasm. "Who's coming with me?"

"Oh I think Nathaniel will be coming with you," Hawke looks over at Nathaniel and lifts a brow. "Right Commander?"

"I'm not the Commander anymore," he responds. "I'm just an outlaw at the moment."

"You lead them, don't you?" I gesture around at the other Gray Wardens. "If you're technically 'in command'..." I grin.

He huffs and shakes his head, "fine. I'll go with the Inquisitor, any other volunteers?"

"I'm going with Hawke to the Approach," Velanna crosses her arms. "I've no patience for politicking or making nice with _Shemlen_ leaders."

"I want Loghain," I say completely without shame and then turn to him with big eyes and clasp my hands under my chin. "Please?"

He grumbles something about 'everyone in power in this country is a fool'.

"I would rather have you with me, Loghain, so that works for me." Nathaniel says, shrugging.

Loghain huffs, "I care not either way."

"I'll go back to the fortress with the Herald," Oghren walks over to look up at me with a serious gaze, hands on his hips. "There's a few things I wanna look into."

My grin is exultant, "great."

"I'll go with Hawke," Sigrun says with a slight bounce. "I can't wait to see the Western Approach!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's read and commented and I want to fangirl at Sketchabloo on Tumblr for drawing Nik!
> 
> It's beautiful, really. Check my tumblr on RikaDivani.Tumblr.com under my RewrittenArt tab.
> 
> If any of you guys wanna do art for me, I'm totally open for anything you wanna hit me with. Always. You can send it via tumblr or ff.net or even in a comment here!
> 
> I'm still squee-ing!


	137. Chapter 137

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer is crashing a lot, I can't unplug it anymore without it immediately snapping off-- I don't think I'll be able to write and update anymore until I can buy a new one, which might be a whole month or maybe more, depending.
> 
> This chapter is twice as long as my usual chapters so I hope you're happy with it for now.

Nik's preoccupation with Loghain soon becomes apparent and I'm reminded of myself when I was younger and presented with an interesting puzzle.

As we ride back to Skyhold, Nik in the wagon with the Dwarven warden and I- she pesters him with questions about his fight against the Orlesians. Then about his friendship with King Maric...and then...

"I don't understand one thing, though." She begins innocently enough, but I know that particular tone is her attempt to approach a touchy subject with elegance. "You sold the elves in Denerim. Why?"

He grumbles under his breath, not words but more simply the sounds of discontentment. "What does it matter?"

"It confuses me," she responds. "Elves who live in Ferelden are still Ferelden elves. You sold your own countrymen down the river under pretense of protecting the country. So what were you protecting? The ground? The trees? The empty homes?"

Her line of questioning seems to have cut him to the quick. His visage pales and the breath seems to be knocked from his body.

"It just seemed out of character is all," she says and then apparently forgets the matter altogether. "Hey Oghren, how's the family? Yelena and Leli said you have one now."

' _What are you doing, sa'lath?_ ' Prodding the former Teyrn only to drop the subject so abruptly...she is planning something for him, already? ' _She's likely_ _ **been**_ _planning this since she woke in Thedas._ ' I remind myself.

The dwarf chuckles huskily, "s'fine, thanks fer askin'. What about yers?"

"Gigantic," she responds with a faraway look. "My family...is... _gigantic_."

I am surprised into a snort, "is it?"

"Well I mean, I've got Cole and Cassie and Varric and Dorian...Bull, Vivienne, Cullen, Josephine, Leliana..." She shrugs with a smile, "plus you know, basically everyone who's ever _joined_ the Inquisition."

This should not surprise me, "you consider the soldiers, servants, farmers and civilians to also be your family?"

"And the Personal Care Specialists and the spies and the ambassadors..." she trails off with a grin. "So yeah, my family is gigantic."

"Dinner must be hell," the dwarf grunts and laughs.

Is that how she keeps herself in check? Considering her entire populace to be direct relations to her?

( _'Your world...where you are from...is your behavior normal?' I had asked her, struggling for words that were not fumbling and offensive and I still failed._ )

( _Her laughter lights up the room, 'do you really think I'd have cared if it wasn't? And no, not...normal, per se. It's more...there's lots of different people. Most would probably call me oversensitive, or a social justice warrior- like it's an insult'_ )

Her eyes had rolled so hard it was comical.

( _'In my world we're at the point where the only kind of racism and sexism and shit like that is left- is the small stuff. I mean, every once in a while you'll get someone to just straight up say they think they're better than another kind of person...but that doesn't happen often anymore, it's all...veiled...'_ )

She bit her lip then and I can still remember the taste of her on my tongue when I kissed her and tugged her lip out of her teeth with mine. I...was feeling particularly affectionate yesterday morning. I still am, but we are not alone.

After she told me...and then we discussed all of this...everything I could think of...

(' _It's the small stuff that's really dangerous though, because it's insidious. I'm mentally ill and I was convinced I was a danger to myself and others...which is kind of why I identify so heavily with the Mages. They shoot fire, but I could just haul off and kill someone with my bare hands if I were so inclined. I mean...it's possible. So explosive potential aside, they were locked up just for being different. I mean, there's been trouble with people abusing magic- but in my world, they abused Science with almost the same results. People died, people got hurt, people got conquered...shit like that._ ')

(' _You were taught that having...an illness would cause you to harm others?_ ' _I watched her with furrowed brows, confused by the very idea._ )

(' _Everyone assumes if you do something bad, there must be something wrong with you. Therefore, bad people are mentally ill, and therefore- mentally ill people are bad,_ ' _she said with such nonchalance._ ' _But in reality, the people who murder and rape are entitled assholes who feel slighted in some way by someone they feel owed them something. I mean, there's times when trauma causes mental illness and people end up becoming serial killers with mental issues that everyone focuses on instead of what it is they felt they were denied and keep trying to claim._ ')

After we spoke on that matter for some time, she was curled in my arms on my bed and my fingertips were running through her hair...and she asked me a question I could not answer.

( _'I know you miss them,' she'd said and planted a kiss on my throat. 'But they might hate you when they come out, regardless of your good intentions- you know that...but you also know I'd never let them hurt you. If it came down to it, would you fight for yourself- for me?'_ )

She did not prod me for an answer, she never does when she asks a question like that.

"Hey, lets make camp." Nik sits up straighter in the wagon and squints toward the horizon where the sun is not far from setting. Two more hours perhaps. "We need to brush down the horses and eat anyway- we should just stop."

"I suppose we will make Skyhold soon enough," Warden Howe mutters. "Alright, everyone off your horses and out of the wagon, we'll pack everything up and get dinner started. Who's cooking?"

Nik's hand shoots up, "I'll do it!" she chirps.

I do not realize I'm smiling at her until she turns back and catches my gaze. She does not respond the way she normally does to my amusement, calling me a jerk or telling me to 'shut up your smirky face'...instead she simply seems to get caught and stare for a moment before flushing up to the roots of her hair and hurrying off the wagon.

I merely hop over the side, marveling yet again that she knows... _everything_ , that she has _always_ known...and I can still affect her in this way. In fact that I always _have_ , regardless of the fact...

( _"I know you only meant to help, but you've kinda got tunnel vision," she'd said with amusment. "And you can never change gears on the big stuff. I mean, you're versatile and everything, but you're unbending about your goals. When new stuff comes to light, you should be able to shift your focus- and when it's small stuff or in a fight, you do it well enough..." Her lips tick upward, "I know it's hard to admit when you're wrong or when you might be in pursuit of something that isn't worthwhile- but if you just keep striving for something that won't actually give you any satisfaction, the time will still have been wasted...it'll just be_ _ **more**_ _than what you'd have wasted if you'd given up the ghost halfway through and adapted to the new situation."_ )

She had many thoughts and opinions on the things I've done or things I'd _planned_ to do. There was no judgment- or... not _true_ judgment, at least.

And she echoed many sentiments that Wisdom had attempted to impress upon me.

At the time, I thought... Well, Wisdom is a spirit. Wise, but only with one dimension to its wisdom. As Compassion could not see the complexities of life, Wisdom could not either.

Or so I had thought.

I walk around the wagon to watch her, leaning on one of the wheels, uncaring of any eyes that might be upon me.

She flutters about camp, helping to set up tents and tend to horses before settling at the newly-dug firepit to light the meagre pile of sticks and leaves before heaving a few logs onto it. She insisted we take two or three logs with us from Skyhold or the nearest camp- wherever we went. She did not like the idea of chopping down a tree and basically wasting most of the wood for one small fire.

My soul and hers do not part often since I allowed myself to reach out and cling yesterday morning. When our souls _are_ apart, it is of her doing. Because she cannot fully control how she recoils from the warmth of another's touch, from her own feelings and thoughts...

She mixes together a few ingredients in a small wooden bowl, over and over to make as many biscuits on that flat metal sheet as she can fit. And then she begins mixing the gravy. It is one of her favorite dishes. I wonder if she has any crumbled bacon left to stir into the gravy- that is what she likes best.

And she always leaves a pair of biscuits cut in half and drizzled with honey or jam for me.

"You know," Hawke walks around the wagon and purses his lips. I heard him moving about or he would have startled me. "When I found out the Inquisitor had a lover, I didn't guess in a million years it would be you."

My head turns as I consider him with a bland expression, "am I supposed to gather something from that about my own inadequacies, or yours?"

His mouth opens and closes and then he flushes up to his hairline, "I- uh. Sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

I stare him down for a few moments more, eyebrow slowly but steadily climbing. "How else could you possibly have meant it?"

"It's just...she's human. And everyone thinks she's a noble." He says. "She's too soft and sweet with razor-sharp teeth, people think she's originally from Tevinter or Orlais...and to be honest I didn't think a noble with noble upbringing would look twice at an apostate elf, regardless of how pretty or smart they are. Other than...well you know how they usually look..."

Sighing through my nose and mastering the impulse to rub the bridge of my nose with my fingertips, "and you are commenting on this to me, because?"

"Because I also thought it was too...close," he says. "I felt it was too similar and that _you_ were too similar and that I was doomed to watch..." His expression dulls into something melancholy. "Do you know why the romance in Varric's novel about me only starts after...after the middle of the book?"

I tilt my head at him, narrowing my eyes. "No." I would assume because it was realistic.

"It's because Anders wasn't my first...lover." He struggles with the word. "And Varric removed all mentions of the first romance so the whole world wouldn't know about it."

I fail to see how this carries over and I know he can see the skepticism written all over my face.

"It's just...at first, I thought I could do it, you know?" He peers ahead at where she is now flipping the biscuits over with a small...spatula, is what she called it, I believe. "I was willing to do anything to be with him, and then he...ran."

I glance aside at him, "and this pertains to Nik and I, how?"

He chews the inside of his cheek for a moment, "because I've seen that panicked look on your face."

My whole body goes still and rigid, "I believe you are mistaken."

"Really?" He turns and leans on the wagon next to me, murmuring now. "You've never thought about bolting? 'For her own good'? Maybe because you think you're 'broken' or just plain 'bad for her'?"

My eyes search his expression and my mouth opens, and then closes. "That... I no longer feel that way," it's useless to lie. And to do so seems...wrong.

"Yes, I noticed. Which is why I thought to say something." He taps his fingertips against his forearm. "The only reason I'm not dead after that rejection is because Anders was there for me. I...gave up."

I see the vulnerable bend to his spine, the bow of his mouth pursing in a way that speaks of teeth gritting around them. "In what way?" I suspect, and it...unnerves me.

"I stopped eating or sleeping or even..." he snorts, "bathing. I didn't want to be a burden on anyone, and I knew I couldn't stop fighting for Kirkwall. It felt selfish to just up and die without doing more. So I decided I'd waste away into nothing-"

(' _I can't be catatonic again- I can't sit in a bed and wait to waste away and die again…_ ')

A shudder overtakes me as he pauses, taking notice of my discomfort. "Well...it doesn't matter really. I just...there was a time when he seemed to be certain and then...he wasn't. All at once. I want to give you an idea of what could happen if you renege on this...surety."

My fingertips clench around my arms. I do not know when I crossed my arms. "I'm prefectly aware of what that looks like."

He laughs derisively, "no. No, you aren't." He breathes in deeply. "I know the Inquisitor has a mind-sickness. Varric told me as much when he saw her that morning. That morning that she couldn't get out of bed? That isn't the worst, you know." He smiles self-deprecatingly. "Even I who have no such affliction, was worse than that. She had support and comfort then. What do you suppose she'll do if you leave her now? Allow others to mollycoddle her until it doesn't hurt anymore? You know better."

"You've barely known her a month," I remind him with a whiplash in my tone. "Do not presume to lecture me."

"This isn't a lecture, it's a warning. Big difference," he responds. "And I've known her longer than that, by virtue of Varric's correspondence. Or did you think he only sent word to me before I showed up at Skyhold?"

My head dips and my shoulders tighten, "what is your point, Hawke?"

"Don't do anything 'for her own good' or to protect her from something without consulting her first. And if she says it's a stupid idea, _listen to her_. It will be you leaving that kills her, not anything else." He says, "and don't for a second think I'm saying that loving you will be the thing that kills her. It will be knowing that the love didn't matter enough to you to stay because you need to punish yourself and that's more important than she could ever be."

My jaw grinds and I turn away from him, "excuse me."

I am not angry because he presumes to tell me my own business, or even truly because he had the nerve to presume he knows Nik better than I do...

I am angry because I know he and Nik are more alike than they are different- because his account of being abandoned and dying inside struck a chord in me- and because he recognized something in me I never meant to show to anyone.


	138. Josephine POV, Solas POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I've got my grandma's old laptop with the broken screen hooked up to a monitor with a keyboard and mouse so I'll be able to update after all, it'll just be a lot slower than usual.

"The hell is going on!?" The Inquisitor's voice rings out above the squabbling and I breathe a sigh of relief.

The elves in Skyhold always respond better to her than to anyone else in the Inner Circle- including Solas. Though I suppose that has something more to do with his air of superiority.

"Inquisitor, we have need of your expertise!" I weave through the crowds toward her, my gown swishing as I turn sharply this way and that to avoid smacking into anyone. "It would seem we have reached an impasse-"

I reach her just as Islanil and Nanin break from the crowd and fall silent as they both begin to bark at her in that Elvhen language.

There's been a steadily growing discontent within the elven communities since the Inquisitor has been gone. There are some Dalish and city elves who choose to follow the Ancients and believe their tales of history.

There are others who deny this is the truth and wish to stay true to their old ways- and even a third group who does not care either way and wishes to simply live as they please without worrying about the past. Or that is what I have gathered after speaking with a few of them in each of the small groupings that are facing each other and loudly arguing.

They do not take well to being spoken to by a Human while arguing over elven matters, understandably so. But I am an ambassador, and it is my duty to at least gather all the information I can.

The Inquisitor frowns at both of the Ancients, hands on her hips and I take notice of the people listing behind her, just inside the gates.

Two humans and a dwarf. And Solas hovering at her back as always. It relieves me to see him there, knowing I will not have to stay to keep watch over her.

"I will show your guests to some rooms, Inquisitor!" Anything to get away from this! I have to shout over the raucous noise, but I know she can hear me. The mark and whatever magic it has worked on her has enhanced her many senses. I merely need to whisper in an empty room to be heard even if she is on the very far side, reading a book.

The Herald's eyes turn to me and she spares me a warm smile as the elves bicker on with each other, "thanks, Josie." And then she turns her head and barks an order in Elvhen. I believe it is that word she said means 'hush' or 'quiet'.

It seems to work, as they slowly fall silent. "Everyone in the Inquisitor's traveling party should come with me, please!" I gesture to the two human men and the one dwarven man in Gray Warden armor and walk slowly backwards until I'm certain they are following me. "I will find you rooms, some food and if you like, we can have a bath drawn for you."

"A bath would be nice," the man with the longer black hair sighs. "What about you, Loghain?"

"I'd hesitate to be so vulnerable in a new situation, Howe." The other with shorter black hair responds.

"Heh! I'm orderin' some meat and soakin' till the water turns cold," the Dwarf says in a low, rumbling voice.

I almost hesitate at the steps to the great hall, but...no. They couldn't possibly be _that_ Howe and Loghain...but...the dwarf matches Yelena's description of Oghren, her friend from the Blight and beyond...

Oh Nik, you try my _soul_ , you _truly_ do.

* * *

 

Solas POV

Her reaction to the great noise and the anger dancing on the air is to stare stonily at the crowd until they slowly quiet and weave uncertainly on their feet, looking nervous.

Islanil and Nanin are standing tall, but I can sense the nervousness in them. Their eyes dart to her glowing hand, again and again as she taps her fingertips against her upper arm. "All of you are coming with me, we're going to have an object lesson."

I am suddenly glad that Bull and Sera were left in Crestwood with Dorian to oversee the setup of the new Inquisition base. Dorian would have far too many questions, Sera would be agitated with all the elves arguing about how best to be 'elfy' as she would say. Bull might be a stabilizing influence, but he also might fan the flames for his own amusement.

Nik leads the way to the Justicar training yards. Other than the outer courtyard, it is likely the only place with enough space to address all of these elves at once.

I fall in beside her on the staircase down, a barrier forming on my right side where the drop-off is, though…it seems the Dwarven contractors she's hired have begun hammering spikes into the steps to accommodate some kind of railing.

She clings to my arm the whole way down, as she usually does. I would wrap my arm around her waist, but she has reacted negatively to that while on steps such as these before. Something about how if one of us fell, both of us would be knocked off balance and be unable to steady the other.

I remember how she'd blushed and stammered that it was likely only her paranoia but she would prefer to simply keep hold of my arm while walking down stairs.

She is afraid of so many things, and yet moves forward regardless.

(" _How is it you do not fear death?" I asked her as we slowly plodded along in the wagon. There is no one here who can understand Elvhen, so I am a bit freer with my words than I would be normally. "Does death exist in your world?"_ )

( _I remember the way she'd blinked at me, and then how she laughed, holding it in so she would not draw attention to us."What makes you think I don't fear death?" she asked breathlessly._ )

( _"I assumed, with the way you constantly throw yourself upon swords." That particular event has not yet happened, but it is plausible that it could._ )

( _She rolled her eyes, "just because I refuse to let it stop me, doesn't mean I don't feel it. Sometimes I get so overcome by fear of everything, but-" She had shrugged and smiled. "If there's something really important, something I need to do, then I just…go for it."_ )

She leads everyone into the largest clearing, used for sparring practice and pulls me with her by the wrist to the very front of the procession.

And then she turns to face them and snaps her fingers, pointing downward.

It is amusing to see the way only half of them know what she wants and the rest only follow suit after the first half has dropped to the ground.

Nik and I sit side-by-side and she has not relinquished my hand.

"I'm gonna tell you all something important," and now she has taken to stroking my wrist with her fingertips. "I don't agree on anything with anyone, ever."

I frown at her and stare at her face, attempting to divine what she means without interrupting her.

She grins at their perplexed and irritable expressions. "'But how can that be?' I'm sure some of you are thinking."

Indeed.

"You guys have superstitions, right? Where I'm from, we used to think milk spoiled because we pissed off the fairies," she says.

The elves shift, glancing at each other and back to her, wondering what her point is, I'm certain.

"But later on, we discovered _bacteria_." She sits up straight and explains while still holding tight to my hand, "you see, bacteria are what make you sick. They're these tiny little organisms you can't see without a microscope. They're so tiny they're invisible to the naked eye, so we didn't discover them until we started making strides in science, of course."

I am still lost.

"The entire history of where I'm from is people thinking they know stuff, only to find some kind of new data and realize they were wrong." She smiles warmly at the gathered elves and shrugs her shoulders. "There are still people who live by old laws of science and ones who are always looking for the next big discovery. This data doesn't effect everyday life, except for the fact that now you have new information. If you're not a scientist, then it's just a cool factoid."

"What is the point of this lecture?" one of the elven women snaps and stands up from the ground. "and why do you speak to us as if we are children?"

"Cause you're acting like it," Nik replies coldly, staring the woman down for several moments. "Humans led an Exalted March against your people, _all_ your people, because they couldn't stand someone else to have different beliefs than they have. Don't make that mistake. Stop acting like a petulant two-year-old who disagrees with their best friend on who their favorite storybook hero is."

I have never seen her be this harsh with elves before. Humans, always. It…concerns me, though I agree with her. This isn't her usual brand of loving correction.

"Our entire lives and culture are a lie!" a man stands next. "They want us to ignore that!"

"It isn't true! We only have the words of-" another begins to stand.

Nik crosses her arms and the mark cracks loudly. They do not stop the first time.

There is a loud crack of thunder every time someone stands to attempt to speak against someone else. Soon, the people left sitting have to stand and move away to the fringes of the discussion.

"Alright, ENOUGH," her voice echoes around the clearing and…they are frozen.

All of them frozen in a rictus of fury.

Those on the outside are frozen with frightened and saddened expressions on their faces.

Nik seems shocked, standing and staring around with wide eyes, "shit, Solas how do I turn it off!?"

I want to laugh. This reminds me so much of learning to wield magic and accidentally setting things on fire or warping a rock in the wrong shape…and she still looks to me to know everything first.

"You can figure it out, Inquisitor." I smile benignly as I rise and she turns to me with a panicked expression. "It will take you a moment, I'm sure."

"I'm holding them _hostage_ , and you want this to be a teaching moment!?" she's beginning to hyperventilate.

I sigh, "yes. You are clever enough to figure it out for yourself. Do not rely on me to be your receptacle of knowledge."

And something strange happens then, she looks me dead in the eye and she says, "if I don't rely on you, I don't need you. I need to need people. Especially right now when I'm so powerful I could start and end wars and apparently _fucking freeze people_."

And I recall that everything Nik does is for some purpose, even when she does incredibly baffling things and I feel very small for a moment. She makes mistakes, but this is not one of them. She is incredibly afraid of being too powerful and I should have remembered that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think this is out of character for Nik, you'd be right...


	139. Chapter 139

Solas finally walks me through how to release the elves from my spell, but his eyes are faraway and he's got that sad, contemplative look on his face again.

I spend a good ten minutes checking on every single one of them, making sure there aren't any lasting effects and apologizing profusely for accidentally freezing them. And then I get back to the topic at hand.

"I wanted to make a point gracefully but I'm too tired and worn out for that anymore, I think," I finally say with a sigh. "My point was 'it's  _their_ life and it does not in any way  _effect_  you'." Cracking my neck and glancing around the clearing, I shrug. "If you think the Ancients are real Ancients, go with that. If not, go with that too, but don't  _ever_  try to police what someone else thinks and believes, because then you're just as bad as the humans who led the Exalted March on the Dales."

"But they're wrong _,_ " Islanil marches up to me with burning eyes, Nanin glaring from behind him just as fiercely.

"Does it matter?" wait a second. "Did you just speak common?"

"I have been teaching them," Solas intones from nearby. "They prefer to speak in  _Elvhen_  but they can…understand and hold a conversation at the least."

"Damn, that was fast," I mutter. "Alright, then I only gotta say this once: their belief or disbelief, does not effect you."

Nanin scoffs loudly, "how does it not?"

"How  _does_  it?" I ask. "Beyond irritating you, how does it actually impact your life at all?"

Both his and Islanil's mouths open, and then they close. This repeats a few times before Islanil bursts out with, "you cannot condone this denial of historical events!"

"Why not?" I perk a brow. "You're all so focused on your differences, you aren't even looking at your similarities."

I gesture between the Ancients and the Dalish apart from them who are all glaring at them. "You've both experienced oppression and you both turned to figures of power to take strength from so you could act without hesitation. The Dalish invoke their gods for comfort and courage the same as you invoke  _him_."

And then I turn to the glaring Dalish with a shake of my head, "And when they try to escalate, I  _know_ you know you could just walk away. If they're being assholes, you don't have to engage with them. You can say your piece and be done with it, or just ignore them altogether. So knowing that you know this, I'm going to assume it's outrage, yes?"

I wait until one of them says 'yes' out loud, though a lot of them nodded when I asked. I needed the verbal confirmation. "Is it outrage that they're invalidating your opinion or outrage that they're living in a way you find objectionable?"

They all talk at once and I roll my eyes, throwing up my hands. They eventually quiet down but it takes a while for them to realize I'm not listening because I can't understand a single word. "One person. Pick one person to explain, please."

Eventually they shove  _Mahariel_  to the front which is…well, not really  _that_  surprising. I was shocked to meet him but not really all that surprised to find him leading a whole clan.

"Our problem is that our culture and heritage has been suppressed and denied for as long as we can remember. We will not allow them to spit on it and spread lies and when we say as much, they attack us with accusations of insanity and denial," he says very succinctly.

"Thank you," I respond politely and then I purse my lips and address everyone. "I am technically  _insane_ , you all know this, don't you?"

There is a dead silence as this is absorbed.

"My brain sometimes lies to me," I explain. "It's a mental illness. Mental illnesses aren't to be made  _fun of_. And calling someone insane as an insult is incredibly offensive to me. I say things like 'crazy, insane' and 'stupid' because these are words people call  _me_  and people  _like me_. By saying these words, I take away their power. But if you have no mental illnesses and you're using it as an insult, it's the same as someone calling elves 'savage' and using that word to describe someone they don't like."

A lot of them probably have undiagnosed PTSD and anxiety and depression and a whole host of other issues, but I think they should know this. It's never really bothered me when people say things like 'addled' or 'are you mad' but in this situation it feels…why do I feel so strongly about it today?

Maybe because I feel like I'm  _acting_  it, today?

Then I sigh and turn to the Ancients. "You're insulted because they don't like  _him_ , they're insulted because you  _do_. I think you both just need to keep the hell away from each other and respect each other's boundaries. No talking about things you  _know_  are sensitive subjects. If you're trading with each other, you talk about trade. If you're talking about current events, stick to current events. If you can't discuss things without escalating into a screaming match that might turn into an actual fight- don't talk to each other in Skyhold."

Then I lift both my eyebrows, "you wanna go out and scream at each other or beat each other up cause you think it'll make you all feel better, fine- but don't do it within the bounds of my fortress where small children play and other innocents could be caught in the crossfire."

"Who are you to tell us what we can and cannot say?" And here comes Atheneras, right on time- walking from the back of the pack so she was probably hanging back to observe. "You mean to silence us, as everyone always has!"

"You didn't actually listen to a word I said, so I'm not responding to that." I say blankly. "Instead I will re-summarize: If you wanna talk about something and it gets heated, go outside so you don't hurt or traumatize anyone not involved in your argument, such as Dwarves, Tal'Vashoth and  _children_." The human adults kinda deserve the elf rage all around them, to be honest.

Her nose scrunches up and Deshanna pushes through the throng to pull her back, "my apologies, Lady Nik. She is very…passionate."

"Passion is good, Rebellion is good." I look into Atheneras's eyes and I see anger and hatred. "But that battle you think you're fighting against me? Doesn't exist. You're imagining my side of the argument because you want to be angry."

"You've  _just said_  we cannot speak about our  _own_  religions!" she shouts as Deshanna sighs and shakes her head.

" _When_  did I say you couldn't talk about it with each other or other people?" I put my hands up and look around as if searching for something and then look back to her. "I said don't  _argue_  about it,  _in Skyhold_. You can talk all you want, hell, preach outside in the square if you want- but if there's violence, it shouldn't be in my people's  _safe place_."

" _Skyhold_  is twice  _over_  ours more than yours!" Atheneras shouts.

And so I make a show of thinking about that. "You know, you're right." I nod, then point sideways at the Ancients. "They were living here when we arrived, and are apparently Ancient Elves themselves, having lived here through the construction of the Veil and beyond. This place belongs to them, they're just letting us all stay here."

There's a moment of confusion and Atheneras glances around, looking to me with grudging approval over the show I'm making. Then her brow furrows, "as if you would leave if they simply  _asked_!"

"They did ask, but their boss gave us permission to stay and we had nowhere else to go," I pop a shrug. "Now, though…we've got many lands, many bases…yeah. We could leave now."

"So why don't you?" Islanil questions with a sudden tick. He's biting the inside of his cheek.

_He_  can't believe how smoothly this is going either.

"But we don't want to leave you, Herald!" Merrill enters, right on cue. "Many of the elves would choose to come with you, what would be done with them if you left?"

"Same thing as ever, don't worry about this pissing me off, it's not their fault." I shrug. "We'll just distribute our numbers across Ferelden and maybe Orlais."

Solas walks over and stands close to me, not speaking- giving me a  _look_. He's figured it out. Though I wonder which parts he's figured out.

The fact that the Ancients, Athena, Merrill and Deshanna are all in on it- or the fact that I'm about to  _really_  vacate Skyhold?

Or maybe he's figured out that the spell I just worked was intentional, even if I  _really_  didn't know how to undo it.

One thing I know, I'm in for a questioning and maybe a lecture when I finally explain what I'm doing.


	140. Nik POV, Dorian POV

"What is the meaning of this!?" Cassandra is already pacing in the War Room when we all arrive.

Thank god we got Merrill's people moved into their spot outside already or we'd be in danger of ruining all my plans.

"I would also like to know," Solas walks up past me to lean on the war table.

Cassandra makes a face, "as if this was not your idea."

"I left him in the dark as much as you, because I knew you'd think that." I slant her a dirty look and give Solas a shrug, "I didn't want them devaluing my plan because they thought it might've come from you, because they're a bunch of racist shitwads who obviously think I can't think for myself. And don't know you probably would've disagreed with this plan cause all they see is 'elf' and 'mage' when they look at you."

"Josephine and I are the only people in the Inner Circle who knew beforehand," Leliana walks in with Josephine, Vivienne, Cullen and Varric. Sera probably won't care one way or another where we are or why and I'll just need to send a missive off to Dorian and Bull-

"Blackwall, you're here!" I haven't seen him a while. "Good, I need you to come to the Western Approach with us."

"After we relocate all of Skyhold, you mean?" he asks with a quirked brow as everyone files in.

"The plan itself is quite clever my dear, and I'm certain you already know you could have done this quite differently, so I shan't waste time on that particular lecture and simply ask: Why? What is the ultimate goal?" Vivienne knows I know that I could've painted myself as a savior and gotten public favor. This way, the Elves have more agency and I've…well…

"A new Elven nation," I shrug. Then I grin as Merrill, Athena, Ren, Deshanna and my two Ancients walk in. "Great performance, all of you."

"I still think you've some ulterior motive…" Athena wrinkles her nose but her eyes are dancing with excitement, "but this will be grand while it lasts."

Everyone's gaping at me but Solas, who has his face in one of his hands and is shaking with what I would assume is silent laughter.

"We are unhappy that such a large number of our people will be left in the world of humanity, but I suppose it's unavoidable." Nanin was so quiet out there, letting Islanil take the front because he can never do  _fake_  anger. Apparently if he'd been out front the whole time in the argument I mighta got slugged or magicked by accident if he forgot he wasn't supposed to.

So yay for Islanil.

"It's their choice," I respond with a big grin. "And you'll have to do business with Humans, Dwarves or Qunari just to keep yourselves afloat. I'd choose the Dwarves, less chance of getting inducted into the Qun against your will."

Merrill sighs, "I want to stay and learn but my clan needs me to lead them and they all wish to leave with you, Inquisitor."

"Eh, we'll work out a pilgrimage program- I'm sure setting up a museum won't be too hard after all this is over. Could even open it up to humans, shiv 'em for coin." I shrug, grinning.

Ren laughs, "suppose we could. Where are we all going, anyway?"

I grin a little at that question, "the Dales."

"Wh…what?" Cullen frowns. "The Dales?"

"Celene and Gaspard are fighting over the region, and creating an opportunity for us," Leliana walks over to place a marker in the Dales, right in the middle of the wilds. "We have a few camps in the area, in this configuration."

She place several smaller markers in a circle around the bigger one. "If we close ranks and fall behind the fortifications built there, we will have the placement necessary to begin expanding and pushing back… _everyone_. Celene and Gaspard will vie for the Inquisitor's favor, seek to ally themselves to her, and that is our way in."

"What?" I lift both my brows at Cullen and Cassandra who are looking at me with something akin to horror. "I told you all along I planned to take over Orlais and Tevinter." And then I grin, because I just can't help myself, "did you think I was joking?"

* * *

 

Dorian POV

"You said she was filled with fury," I've been following the spirit around Caer Bronach for three days now, fascinated with his views of the world around him. "What did you mean? I always suspected she had some hidden anger- she shows it sometimes…but when you said that, it seemed to mean…more."

"Everything she does is because of Righteous Fury," he responds, turning and leaning back against one of the stone walls. " _How dare you treat women this way, how dare you treat elves this way, how dare you, how_ _ **dare**_ _you?_ " His voice becomes very fervent at the end of that and it sends a chill up my spine. "She is not as detached as she thinks. It comes from a misunderstanding of her own nature."

"Oh?" I ask with a curious tilt of my head. "And what is that misunderstanding?"

"She believes her nature is closer to selflessness or some form of lawfulness- in truth it is so similar to my own I was able to connect to her on a level…" he looks mournful then, "a level I have not connected with anyone on in a very long time."

"Is that why you're…not like Compassion was when we first met him?" I ask excitedly. "He was confused when I met him, quiet and withdrawn and seemed to have difficulty communicating…"

"All spirits are different," he says with a piercing stare. "Compassion is soft and sharp and doesn't always know the right action to take to soothe the pain. Righteous Fury is more similar to a lightweight war hammer. You can go at the problem in many ways, all of them equally correct for a different purpose and separate end. You must face the problem with the correct stance, the correct movements, to fit the situation. To fix the injustice, to protect the helpless, whatever it is you preside over."

My eyes widen in surprise, "there are different- of course there are. What do  _you_  preside over?"

He tilts his chin up and looks me dead in the eye, "I am the one who is enraged when people in power abuse that power. I am the fury of the common folk who are subjugated. I am the child whose parent is harsh and hurtful."

I flinch at that, though I can't say it was directed at me.

"I am the oppressed, raging for equality," his lips quirk. "She tries so hard to be me, without knowing that is what she does. Entertaining, really."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heheheehehehehehehe


	141. Chapter 141

Getting Skyhold packed up, organized and moved- will take us two weeks at the least. Time we're taking seriously.

"Caer Bronach is go for a large influx- we've only got a skeleton crew there and Crestwood is welcoming of our presence," I move a medium-sized piece onto the map over Crestwood. "Dorian's traveling to the Dales with Bull, Sera and Fury with the Mayor in their custody."

"Therinfal could stand to hold more civilians," Vivienne hums and places a large marker near Therinfal. "We need workers to repair the walls and servants to prepare meals, so set aside a good number of those willing to make the move. There is enough room to expand a small village out from the fortress so we will be able to accommodate quite a few."

"The Circle in Ferelden is open and devoid of occupation," Dahlia looks at it and then at me. "Only loyalists should go there, they probably wouldn't mind. The rest of us would prefer to move directly to the Dales or spread up between Caer Bronach and the Crossroads."

"The Crossroads have already expanded too far, the King is putting his foot down." Cullen crosses his arms. "You can send them to Therinfal. The Templars there are long off their Lyrium and won't have any inherent authority over you."

"Whatever mages are fine with that, will go to Therinfal, but I'm not forcing them to be around their abusers, Cullen." I return as I place a very small marker at Therinfal. Batting away his attempt to make Dahlia feel unreasonable.

He has a long way to go, still.

There are different kinds of markers in three different sizes that I had made.

Mage- which is shaped like a flame.

Soldier- which is shaped like a sword.

Scout- which is shaped like a bow and arrow.

And lastly, Civilian- which is shaped like a pitchfork, book or loaf of bread. It represents the three kinds of civilians we mostly have. The researchers, the farmers and the people who prepare the food. There's others, but they all fall under one category or another.

Mages can fall into the Civilian category quite easily, so they are counted as a civilian instead of a mage. Anyone who looked at the table would actually not know the true numbers of mages and non-mages in each group. Which is good in case of a leak.

"Fenris and Anders have asked to come with us to the Western Approach," Solas intones from his seat against the wall. He prefers to remain silent until he's got something to add, and sometimes I forget he's there, he's so quiet. "Perhaps we could send them ahead and they could help escort our people as we do the same traveling to the Dales?"

"Fenris, Anders, Merrill, Athena and Ren should be spread out among the traveling groups. I want Mahariel leading one of them, Merrill on another with Athena- Ren with Fenris- and Anders should come with us." I chew my bottom lip, "that way when we arrive, Hawke will have less time to chew me out over it."

A chuckle goes around the room, Dahlia giggling and Vivienne just smiling in her pretty, brittle way.

Josephine pushes her way to the table and slaps down three different markers on the map in no particular place. "We need to figure out where we are sending those with injuries, illnesses and…" she struggles for a moment.

"The Disabled, Josephine- just say the disabled," I pluck the small marker that indicates the relatively low number of people in Skyhold that I've actually been able to speak to and personally diagnose with PTSD, depression, anxiety and a host of other issues. There are a lot of disorders beyond my ken, but I can at least recognize symptoms if nothing else. "The mentally disabled should be sent somewhere with less chance of stressful situations. There are a bunch of places in the Hinterlands where we've established camps, we can split them up among the people there."

Then I move on to the chronically ill, "these people need to be around healers at all times and we're sending quite a few to Caer Bronach. We should send them to populate part of Crestwood."

Picking up the physically disabled marker, I slap it down in the Dales. "They'll go with us if they have their prosthetics finished and attached. If not, they'll stay behind in Skyhold until Dagna can finish them all. We've got two weeks to move everyone out, hopefully it's long enough if we give Dagna a bunch of assistants to work just with her."

"What about those who cannot walk or speak or…" Josephine flutters at the map. "We must have a safe place where they can go and-"

"There's a place I've been told about in the Dales, I'm going to see if it's really there and if it is, we'll use that for our wounded and the disabled who cannot fend for themselves." I respond. "It would be a highly defensible position, I'm hoping. If we can't get to it or it doesn't really exist, then we'll just pull them inside our territory and keep them defended as well as we can while we expand."

"You are taking me with you, Darling. No excuses," Vivienne reminds me. "Who else will be in your main traveling party?"

"Cullen's heading straight to Therinfal, then over to the Western Approach." I say. "Leliana's heading out with her Scouts and hopping around a few of our camps to find extra people to switch out and then heading to the Approach, so she's out too. Josephine is going to be needed to organize things here up to the last minute so she can't travel with us either…"

"Blackwall, Vivienne, myself, Anders and Cole should be a sufficient party." Solas walks up beside me at the table, close enough that our shoulders brush as he taps the Dales on the map. "We could send Blackwall and his contingent of Blades to the weak side of our fortifications, Vivienne could take control of the ex-templar squads to bolster the other side and I myself have an entire battalion of combat mages under my purview that wish to travel to the Dales."

He shifts around a few pieces on the map to show what he means, "Dahlia's entropy mages and mine mixed together and spread out around the entire boundaries of our territory would afford us the best defense against both armies. Anders would be useful for healing the injured, as well."

"Cassie left this morning with a good force of soldiers, so yeah with us bolstering their numbers and giving them a more even advantage on all sides…that should be the way to go," I smile and nudge him in the side. "And you keep calling them 'our people', you know," I mutter under my breath so only he can hear. There aren't any other elves in the room so I feel fairly confident about that.

His only response is a small smile as he rearranges the markers on the map.

"We have control of Wycome and many people died in Zevran's struggle with the Venatori- and the Red Lyrium poisoning killed several more…" Dahlia bites her lip. "Perhaps we could send the mage children there? It has high walls and I would prefer they be completely away from all danger."

"I'll have Zev take  _all_  the children there," I respond. "The parents who are going out on the front lines will be reassured of the thought their children won't be out in the open or defended by a paltry force in the Dales. Zevran can go there with his crows and all the scouts we sent with him last time. They'll take the kids there and then defend the city from any attack."

"We're as ready as we could be for this move," Cullen sighs. "We should begin departing."

"The Justicars are split, my lady." Dahlia turns to me. "There's a small number of elven mages who would prefer to stay with the ancients here. Are they to be disavowed from the order?"

I give her an incredulous look, "of course not. They'll just be trained by the ancients now, instead of me, the Avvar and whoever else I can get my hands on."


	142. Chapter 142

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort of filler, travel to the Dales and the strategy while in them.

The road to the Dales was mostly problem-free. I mean, there were bandits and the odd rebel mage group that decided to jump us for supplies- not to mention the Templars…

But we made it through the countryside without any casualties. A lot of injuries, but there are too many of us for a small force to pose a threat.

We didn't suffer casualties until we got close enough to the Dales for the armies to take us for reinforcements for both sides.

"Justicars, form up in the center and project a barrier as far as you can!" I'm running the length of our caravan of wagons, horses and soldiers, civilians and mages on foot- weaving between people as I go. "Archers I need cover fire in the front and back- combat mages and Soldiers, spread out in a spear formation!"

I can hear similar orders being hollered behind me by Solas, Vivienne and Blackwall.

Our forces are broken up into four groups, all of us self-contained and shoving our way through the center of whatever forces are in front of us. My group is at the center, always- Solas and Blackwall at the back, shoving up at the sides to keep anyone from surrounding us from behind- Vivienne's people out in front, Cole ghosting around the edges.

Anders is basically just waiting for the barriers to fall before casting another one- he's been invaluable. It took forever to convince him to save his mana for just barrier-work but the success we've been able to secure while he's been doing it has convinced him to keep it up, I think.

Before too long, we've come out the other side of the fighting and emerged into a fortified Inquisition camp- where there's still fighting, but on a smaller, more manageable scale.

"Welcome to the Emprise, Lady Inquisitor!" one of our Requisitions officers trots over to greet me. "We're still scouting the region around us, and our position is precarious in the camps we've taken- we need reinforcements to hold this position as it is."

"Where's the healer's area?" I snap my fingers, "healers up front and center!"

A few healers push their way to the front as the Requisitions officer leads me toward the center of the camp. There's so many people injured it boggles the mind.

"Healers, rotate out- your relief is here!" the Requisitions officer shouts and the few healers at the center of the camp look so relieved as they scurry out of the way and head straight for the bedrolls not to far from the camp.

I'm pretty sure they all knock themselves out with a spell, I can feel it fluctuate over them like one big spell so they cast it pretty much in synchronicity.

The new healers begin shouting commands to the servants assigned to assist them. The whole process of healing soldiers is a bit different since I got my hands on the mages and surgeons.

Now they cast a spell to see if there are any internal injuries, if there's not- they immediately start tending their surface injuries with non-magical means if it's not so serious. If there  _are_  internal injuries, they fix those with magic before moving on to the smaller hurts.

"They're attacking us on purpose," Cole appears beside me, dripping with blood and barely nicked. "The two lions don't like us trying to take land from them here."

"We knew they wouldn't, Cole." I pat him on the back. "All we can do is try to keep our people safe, push back the armies and get to our destination. We're packing up this camp to move on in the morning, so if you could help out with that, it'd be much appreciated. I'm going to assist the healers. Solas?"

He's just behind me, surveying the area with piercing blue eyes filled with pain and determination. "Consider me at your disposal, Inquisitor."

I roll my eyes, "I get we're in work mode, but you don't need to address me by my title,  _Vhenan'ara_."

"What do we do first,  _sa'lath_?" he asks and glances at me with only slightly warmer eyes. "Heal those still fighting or join the other healers?"

"I think we should try to give the soldiers as much energy as we can before we move inward," I respond.

He nods and starts off toward one of the edges of the camp zone, stepping immediately into a casting rhythm. Twisting, spinning and twirling his staff around his body as he moves in slow circles and pivots to aim the spells.

I can feel the shiver of his magic as it streaks across the field toward its intended targets.

Rejuvenation here, healing spell there- and when I connect my soul to his and open my connection to the Veil and the Fade beyond it- he's able to draw an enormous wave of power from me.

We found a workaround for the whole thing, you see. The reason magic rips me apart to work it, is because I am not a mage and the person working the magic, is Veil.

But Solas has practice connecting to both me and the mark- he can reach through me and pull the energy out without harming me on the way.

He can't do it for long though- his own mana goes into maintaining a balance that keeps it from ripping me apart, so as soon as he's exhausted his own supply- we're done. No matter how much longer I could go. We argued about it until he gave me a choice.

Either he'd continue to fight with me this way, or I would use the magic in the mark, harm myself, and he'd refuse to do it ever again.

It's an ultimatum and I'd usually just do what I want to prove I can, I'm…contrary like that. But I'm also practical and logical and that would be the wrong move.

So I have to sit back and watch as Solas moves around the circumference of camp to throw out barriers, healing spells and other assistance, and then follow him into the middle of camp as he throws down a low level area-healing-spell that seeps into all of the injured as his mana slowly drains and he's forced to pull his magic away from the mark before the connection can snap.

So many people are piled off to the side, dead. Armor removed, wrapped in cloth and ready for the pyre.

My people are so efficient now, they work without thinking about what they're doing or pausing to say the prayers they normally would.

Now they just keep up a low-level mutter of the Chant of light or that song for Uthenera that the Dalish sing for their dead- as they work.

I think I can even hear Avvar chanting somewhere in camp, though I can't see them.

Solas and I move around the injured, Vivienne joining us before long to assist in triage and treatment.

Blackwall joins with the rest of the warriors, his blades adding their strength and numbers to the camp's inhabitants.

Hopefully by morning we'll be well on our way to finding Valeska's watch. I've already got people searching the area around the Drakon camp for any artifacts, keys or anything else that might be of interest- if someone pockets the damn thing when we're dying out here in droves, they'll feel the full wrath of the whole Inquisition coming down on their head.

We'll fight our way inside, seal up whatever entrances the Darkspawn might be coming through and then pull any camps in the area back toward it to shore up defenses.

Then we're moving on across the Emprise and away from Sahrnia.

The horrific events taking place there were a lot less so with smaller numbers of Templars to populate the place. But we still had to save people and the woman who was selling them was taken into custody…

After that, we're heading for Suledin Keep. I have agents and soldiers handling other issues in the area. I need to focus on the big jobs for now. Can't move too slow or we might not make it in time to the Western Approach.

And…I'm beginning to worry that Solas hasn't mentioned Wisdom yet. Does that mean it hasn't been menaced yet, or maybe that it wasn't able to call for help…?

I need to focus, one step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean for Sa'lath to mean kind of like-- my one and only. and for Vhenan'ara to mean like, my heart's desire.


	143. Scout Vollis POV, Third Person POV

"So you see, my lady…" reporting to the Herald of Andraste herself is…my brains scramble a bit and I have to put effort into putting them back to order. "When we saw the Elves struggling here against the soldiers trying to plunder their goods, we knew you'd want us to step in."

The Exalted plains are so beautiful, even covered in corpses as it is of late. We'd come upon a small camp of Dalish being overrun by soldiers and came to their aid. The newly acquired mages from just down the path that we'd had to save from a similar trouble came in handy for the battle.

"The mages, those ones," she seems to shake, the Herald. Her fingertip points toward the ones we'd saved and I worry for a moment that we did something wrong, that there was some sign these mages weren't to be protected. "Did…anything happen?"

"None of them had to turn to blood magic, if that is what you mean." I reply with some nervousness. "We flew the banner of the Inquisition and our own mages threw barriers over them before we engaged, so they didn't attack us and-"

The Herald leaps forward then and I'm suddenly hugged tightly by a pair of thin, slightly muscled arms. "Thank you, thank you."

I pat her uncertainly on the back, feeling a warm glow begin to build in response. This is why I went after those mages with that mage Scout and that healer and said 'fuck the rest of you, then!' when the other scouts refused to help. This is why- though I must say I expected more of a 'good job' kind of pat on the back, rather than the Herald leaping into my arms…

" _Sa'lath?_ " that elven advisor of hers, the one they say is her lover- he's standing off to the side, staring at her with concern. He says something in what I think is that elven language the Dalish speak. He speaks it too smoothly for me to remember the words themselves.

She stiffens and steps away from me, muttering apologies and then turning to him with a guarded expression. She responds in kind and he narrows his eyes, tilting his head at her.

"Wisdom doesn't have to die now," a boy with a large floppy hat is suddenly there when he wasn't before. I could swear he wasn't there!

I jolt back away from the boy as the elf snaps around to stare at him and then glances back to the Inquisitor with wide eyes. "What is he talking about?"

" _Cole_ ," she says with a stern tone…

Who is she speaking to?

She scoffs and throws her hands up, glancing around. " _Damn_  it, Cole!"

" _Nik_ ," the elf hisses. "What did he mean 'Wisdom doesn't have to die'?"

She sighs, "everybody excuse us, please. We'll be right back."

And so the Inquisitor rushes off with her Arcane Advisor and we're all left to stare at each other uncertainly as they march off across the plain.

A blonde mage clears his throat and ruffles his hair with his hand before pulling it back into a low ponytail. "Well…ah. Are there any injured?"

* * *

 

With Solas and Nik

 

Solas paces a short length of the riverbank, back and forth as Nik relays the tale of the quest: All New, Faded For Her.

He halts at the end and clenches and releases his hands several times before turning to face her with tight lips and furrowed brows. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What could you have done besides bind it?" she asks. "I was already planning to do something with Veil to maybe save it, but there was like…nothing you could've done. The incantation in that book was either targeted directly for a spirit of Wisdom or they were square in the place in Thedas that corresponded to her place in the Fade- because otherwise, they would've gotten some other random spirit."

He inhales long and slow, "I could have done… _something_. I could have warned it."

"Yeah and then it'd either be making itself a body to escape death or calmly accepting its fate- which seems more like it, to be honest," she says. "I was going to save it, Solas. I just didn't want any extra obstacles in my way and that includes whatever Wisdom would've done to itself to keep me from doing something dangerous to save it."

Solas's expression cycles through many emotions then, all of them shivering onto and off of his face in quick succession. "I need…"

"Go talk to Wisdom," she gestures off toward the plains with a tired voice. "Come back when you're ready, we'll…be here for a day or two. Helping the Dalish."

Solas turns on his heel and stalks off into the plains, rounding a small hillock and disappearing from Nik's sight.

Nik sighs and sits where she stands, plucking at the grass in front of her with sadness in her eyes as Cole appears beside her. "I know, Cole. I shouldn't have tried to hide it from him after I saw…"

"Why were you going to hide it after it wasn't a problem anymore?" Cole asks curiously.

Nik shifts uneasily and her lips press together hard, "to spare him pain. To avoid him freaking out over it and going full vengeance on the mages in the Camp…so I wouldn't have to tell him." She says the last reason in a whisper.

"I think you should tell him everything," Cole says with an insistent gaze.

She glances aside at him and smiles, "his agents and mine would be tripping over each other, both trying to do things that I could just  _tell_  him needs to be done in the moment…you know him. You know he'd try to do something. He'd fuck up all my plans, because he thinks he's smarter than I am."

"Solas doesn't think that about you," the spirit retorts. "Just everyone else."

Nik barks a laugh, "and what happens when we disagree over something? In the past we've only ever disagreed over things that were my own to determine or that didn't really affect or hurt anything in any way that had to do with…well, anything he'd care about. But everything else? If we disagreed, he'd just go ahead and fuckin'…"

"You would, too." Cole intones gravely. "It's different, I know…but you would."

"That's why I can't tell him," she sighs. "We'd get in each others' way and everything would get fucked up."

Cole tilts his head and glances off into the distance, "oh. Isabela's finished."

Nik laughs, "I know what you meant, but god that sounded _so_  wrong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who read the original:
> 
> Happened different this time, what do you think of that? Haha.
> 
> The rest of you, were you expecting that?


	144. Solas POV, Nik POV

" _ **I don't understand why you are so upset,**_ " Wisdom drifts through the memory of the Great Library as it always does when I visit it. " _ **I understand that she was planning something incredibly dangerous, but then…she always is.**_ "

" _ **You could have died,**_ " I clench my hands together in my lap, watching Wisdom with a pinched mouth.

" _ **Yes, and if she told you that she knew beforehand, after I was- what would be your reaction?**_ " It asks. " _ **What would you have done if you'd known that she knew, that her attempts to save me had failed regardless of how hard she tried?**_ "

I can see it without prompting, the possible future in that path.

I would have been distraught, angry and pushed her away. Possibly completely. That does not excuse it.

" _ **And if she had told you before, you would have tried to control it,**_ " Wisdom smiles with a mouth that does not exist and exists in four different ways at once. " _ **You either would have led me to an act of self-sacrifice, as she said…or you would have sacrificed something of**_ **yourself** _ **in order to save me. You've lost much already. Simply because she's gathered a bit of it in that mark, means nothing. It is still lost to you.**_ "

I sigh, " _ **she should have let it be**_ **my** _ **decision.**_ "

" _ **It wasn't yours to make, it was mine.**_ " Wisdom inclines its head, " _ **She chose the path that was most wise and attempted to find a way to save me. In the end, you cannot force what she planned on the unwilling.**_ "

I pause at that and gaze at her with slowly dawning realization, " _ **you knew…you know everything she knows.**_ "

Why has this not occurred to me until now?

Wisdom settles on the floor before me, curling its nonexistent limbs beneath it, curling phantom fingers in its lap. " _ **I cannot tell you that which is unwise to reveal…but I can answer a few of your questions, if you ask the right ones.**_ "

The same excitement I always feel before a lesson with Wisdom begins to build. " _ **Would that not be an invasion?**_ "

Wisdom bows its head, " _ **that is for you to decide. Do you believe she would mind?**_ "

Of course not, but that is not the issue.

" _ **Wait…**_ " my brows draw into a firm line, " _ **is this why she sent me to you?**_ "

Wisdom's mouth-that-is-not-a-mouth smiles in response. " _ **She had a suspicion you may search for knowledge of her, after this. That you may no longer trust her. She is at peace with whatever it is you may find.**_ "

" _ **She knows there is nothing to find,**_ " I counter with frustration. " _ **She is not from this world.**_ "

" _ **You forget how much impact she has on the Fade,**_ " Wisdom corrects me gently. " _ **There are many she has effected. Do you recall…Excitement?**_ "

Another presence presses against my protections and I allow the spirit through with barely a thought.

The bright, effervescing spirit of Excitement vibrates and undulates with energy. " _ **Oh, I can't wait!**_ "

* * *

 

Nik POV

"So many Relics, gathered by human hands…" Keeper Hawen is looking at the texts, amulets and other objects that have been found around this area of the Dales by my Scouts with a conflicted expression. "I do appreciate the effort, but I still wish we had been able to reclaim them ourselves."

"There's more out there, and once we've gotten everything settled in Orlais you'll have a lot more freedom to come and go as you please," I reply with a tight smile. "This is just…me making up for Humans being shitbuckets for all of your history."

He chuckles at my colorful swear, "not  _all_  of History. Tevinter was always our enemy, yes- but Ferelden and Orlais only after we were freed from slavery to the Magisters. Once we'd gotten free, once we'd made our own home…" He looks at the artifacts in front of him with wistful sadness. "I don't know that it's in Humanity's nature to take and dominate, or if it was simply that your kind came to it first."

"Everyone has their good and bad sides to their cultures, but…" I don't need to mention the Ancients and what they'd told all the elves at Skyhold- he'll find out eventually. "It doesn't matter what you've done, so much as what you're doing now. If you're still oppressing people, it matters. If your ancestors made mistakes, and you try to go on- I can only hope that counts for something. Even if it doesn't make it all okay in the end."

' _I wonder what he's doing right now?_ '

"You seem distracted, Inquisitor," Hawen tilts his head and smiles kindly at me. "May I be of assistance?"

I sigh, "my…" boyfriend, sorta-almost-lover "…my Arcane Advisor. He's gone off to find answers to some questions, and now I'm worrying. I'll probably be distracted until he gets back."

"If he advises  _you,_ I'm certain he's quite capable," Hawen reassures me. "Do you worry that he will be hurt or discovered by the armies?"

I laugh and shake my head, "If Solas doesn't want to be found, he won't be."

"What  _is_  your worry, then?" he's so curious now.

I smirk half-heartedly, "that he'll find something he doesn't like and…"

Leave me.

"It doesn't matter," I shrug. "It's done, he's out looking…he'll be back soon."

"Inquisitor, we've found…eh," Blackwall stands just outside the small area that Hawen and I are occupying. "One of the elves has spotted that Halla again."

I immediately jolt to my feet, "be right back."

Hawen laughs, "if  _Hanal'ghilan_  can outrun you, I think it safe from most."

"Can't take the chance!" I chime and run toward the area where the horses are.

They all begin to shy away as I approach, so I slow down and walk down the line of them, scoffing and throwing my hands up when they refuse to settle, "damn it, fine! I'll go on foot!"

So I walk back to Blackwall, "what general direction?"

"Scout Vollis can take you," He gestures at the very excitable Scout waiting at the edge of camp.

So I run over and grin in greeting, "take me, take me!"

They laugh and turn, leading the way- carefully strafing around piles of rocks to hide us from view of the open plains.

Vollis is a rather strong-willed person with short brown hair and a heavily freckled face. They're very good at what they do, so far as I've seen- and they're very compassionate and like thinking outside the box as well.

I gave them an extra-big promotion- they're in charge of the entire Scout regiment here, now.

They help me to drift closer and closer to  _Hanal'ghilan,_ until it seems to take notice of us. It doesn't run, but instead goes back to eating with its ears up.

"It knows we're here," Vollis sighs. "we get any closer and it'll bolt."

"Nah, I've got it. You head back to camp and make sure no one comes this way." I respond quietly. "It might take me all day, but I'll get it over there."


	145. Nik POV, Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the real chapter 145, guys! Hope you like it!
> 
> See, I told you I'd still be writing on this one. In fact, I got a big burst of inspiration because of posting the newer version and getting a bunch of reviews for it!

I fell asleep worrying about Solas, as he didn't come back before nightfall and we'll be leaving in the morning.

" _ **He isn't going to leave you,**_ " Veil is trying to comfort me. " _ **We are many things, but we aren't a fool**_ **.** "

" _ **Yes, you are,**_ " I give him a sideways look. " _ **Or at least you call yourself that sometimes, or he does…this is a grammatical nightmare**_ **.** "

He chuckles and it's caught halfway between Solas's laugh and mine, " _ **I can still feel him. We are connected, if not…whole. He is learning much, I can feel his energy…changing.**_ "

" _ **What?**_ " I ask in alarm.

" _ **Our energies are not so rigid as mortals,**_ " he explains patiently. " _ **It is in our nature to assimilate new information and…change.**_ "

" _ **But I never wanted to change him…beyond the obvious,**_ " I mutter and droop as I realize I  _have_  been trying to change him…and who the hell do I think I am, anyway?

" _ **You don't ask that he conforms to a standard, but that he rejects standards altogether,**_ " he says. " _ **I believe that's a bit different than insisting someone behave in a way that is not in their nature**_ **.** "

" _ **I still shouldn't be the one to decide what's…right and wrong**_ **,** " I sigh. " _ **I…just can't stand any kind of closed-mindedness or bigotry. But if the change doesn't come from their own hearts and minds, then it means nothing**_ **.** "

" _ **You offer no punishments for failing to conform to your standards of thought. Only your standards of behavior**_ **,** " he reaches out and brushes a fingertip over my cheek. " _ **Think what you like, but you'll treat people with respect while you do it, yes?**_ "

I huff and reach up to grab his hand, linking our fingers together. " _ **Wha'd'you think he's seeing?**_ "

He grins, " _ **I could show you. But you'll refuse.**_ "

I bite my lip, " _ **I don't want to**_ **know** _ **, I just want to speculate. It's a thing we mortals do sometimes to occupy our thoughts**_ **.** "

" _ **You want to come up with the worst case scenario so you can prepare for it, you mean**_ **,** " his fingers squeeze around mine. " _ **Sometimes it's better to be surprised, you know?**_ "

* * *

 

Solas POV

" _ **What is this?**_ " I frown at the area around me. " _ **The Fade looks…different.**_ "

" _ **That is because you are finally paying attention to it,**_ " Wisdom whispers as it drifts beside me. " _ **Before, you were only consumed with gathering information and you were obsessed with how it was…different. You didn't truly**_ **see** _ **it.**_ "

" _ **I have always seen the Fade, every night,**_ " I argue. " _ **I know more of it than anyone alive.**_ "

" _ **Do you?**_ " it asks. " _ **Pray tell, why has it not changed since you first stepped foot into it? It is not in the nature of the Fade to be quite so stagnant.**_ "

My mouth opens. Then closes.

" _ **You assumed it must be, and so it was,**_ " Wisdom says. " _ **The Fade exists as a representation of expectations and the knowledge of how things are. And it has changed in nature since she first appeared and began to effect change.**_ "

Wisdom makes a sweeping movement with her arm, showing a static image of Haven. " _ **This is the Fade in Haven before the Breach. And this is the Fade, after.**_ " The image gains a few points of movement. Flags fluttering in the breeze, fire flickering- not as natural fire does, slower. Without sound.

" _ **And now, watch. As Haven changes as time goes on under her rule,**_ " Wisdom bows its head and the image begins to…change.

In bits and pieces, people begin moving around in the dream. Just short, small motions, then small expressions on their faces will warp their images…

The flames flicker brighter and faster, sounds begin to permeate the air…

And then the colors begin to brighten. No longer bland and dull, the wood and stone seem to glow and shimmer with their respective colors of brown and gray. The splashes of red and black on the flags stand out with intensity that almost burns my eyes.

" _ **What…is this?**_ " I look around, frowning. " _ **It never changed while I was here. When I watched memories it was always…static. There was information to be coaxed from it but the colors were dull, the memories themselves half-formed-**_ "

" _ **That is because you expected it to be,**_ " it says. " _ **And expecting it to be static and dull and then attempting to force it to be more…I wonder how you taxed the poor humans you were pulling the memories from?**_ "

My lips tighten, " _ **What does this mean?**_ "

" _ **If I told you, the discovery would be meaningless. Come along,**_ " Wisdom turns and whisks off through Haven.

I follow it, feeling the scenery change around us until we were standing in a strange approximation of the Crossroads.

" _ **This area was so confused when she first began to reorganize it,**_ " Wisdom chuckles with many voices. " _ **The people here were afraid, and it colored their perception of the world. Many of them from this area originally, many not. It created a…contradiction. But she soothed them, with food and clothing and reassurances of safety.**_ "

The mages begin appearing in the Crossroads, in greater and greater number until eventually it is a village of mages with a few non-mages among them. The images change from dark, twisted parodies of people, into something…softer, warmer- still colored with fear and wariness, but familiar and friendly.

And there is a memory, something happened…the Templar contingent that we destroyed in the Hinterlands after they killed our emissary- there were others out in the wilds. That much we knew when we attacked.

We had been waiting for retaliation.

When they came, they attacked the soldiers. The mages in the Crossroads were garbed as any other villager and did not do magic unless it was necessary. They wouldn't have observed more than a few healers.

It was a mistake for them to attack, and they learned that very quickly before they were defeated.

Then the images change just a bit more, as the mages tend to the injured with kindness and patience. Their images become bright and colorful and shimmering with gratitude and a feeling of security.

" _ **I wasn't aware the villagers were so attached to the mages in the Crossroads,**_ " I say, tightly.

" _ **There is much you refused to see,**_ " Wisdom informs me. " _ **Allow me to show you more.**_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've rewritten Rewritten.
> 
> Shhhh... don't yell at me.
> 
> I'm making this story the best it can possibly be and those of you who've read the original know that the original and the rewritten version are vastly different and Rewritten is much-improved in many ways.
> 
> I feel that this new version is much better than Rewritten.
> 
> I'm going to keep writing Rewritten, to sound out my ideas for the Revised version, slower now but still going. But if you guys wanna hop over and start following my Rewritten, Revised story...here's a link:
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11619609/chapters/26125188


	146. Chapter 146

" _ **You are still in the Dalish Camp,**_ " his smooth voice asserts as he steps inside my bubble.

I knew he was coming. Veil only ever dissolves or refuses to show himself when he's on his way.

The bubble is dark and it's kind of…raining. Because of course it is.

I sent everyone ahead and decided to stay behind to wait for Solas to come back. I didn't want to leave without him. That would just be admitting…

" _ **Just waiting for my Arcane Advisor to get back,**_ " I respond.

" _ **I would have followed,**_ " he says.

I've got my back to him, so I can't see his face. I'm sure it's probably shifty or guilty looking.

" _ **We both know that's a lie,**_ " I say. " _ **Are you here to say goodbye?**_ "

There's a pause, " _ **you think I'm leaving you?**_ " Hushed, with a tone in it that I don't recognize.

" _ **Well duh, it's what you do.**_ " I say with a slowly furrowing brow. " _ **I told you about that part. There's no point in dancing around it.**_ "

" _ **I am not**_ **him** _ **, stop comparing us,**_ " he snaps.

Then I dip my head, " _ **then why aren't you here now?**_ "

He sighs, " _ **sa'lath, wake up.**_ "

…

I wake up crying, with a pair of arms wrapped around me.

"I'm here, I'm right here," he murmurs into my hair.

I curl into him, around him and grab tight handholds of his shirt, one of my legs curling around his hip and anchoring him to me.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says. Pressing a kiss to my temple. " _Why would I leave you now?_ "

I can feel his soul and mine touching, tentatively at first and then…

I gasp and a shock goes through my whole body. I can feel something like my body melting into his, and then it stops and everything snaps back to normal as he moves.

He pulls his soul away from mine and leans up on an elbow, gasping. "Ah. I didn't think we would have to worry about that just yet…"

"About what? What the hell was that?" I'm still clinging to him with embarrassing force. I don't let go.

"Bonding," he responds with embarrassment in his tone. It's too dark to see his face, but I think he's probably blushing, probably with his ears swept back. "It…doesn't normally happen this quickly."

I blink slowly, "we just…what?"

"No, we haven't!" he sounds so harried. "I ended the process before it could complete. I wanted to…explain this to you. First. I know you prefer that. But I thought I had more- time."

I can just hear how not-ready for this he is. It's too fast for him, and he's panicking. "It's a good thing you stopped it then. I probably would've felt violated if something like that had happened before I could think about it first."

His stillness is very telling, "would you like…some time?"

"To think about it?" I ask. "No. I'm fine. But you need some, don't you?"

The quiet is deafening.

" _I understand you,_ " I say softly. " _I am not taking it personally._ "

" _You misunderstand my hesitance,_ " he says. Slowly settling back down to lie with me. " _I am unsure about many things…but not about you._ "

" _You are, or you would have already reconnected to me, once I said I was alright with it,_ " I respond. " _There's something holding you back._ "

His lips touch my face, brushing over my cheekbone, " _I do not know what effect our bond will have on the Anchor…or the other way around._ "

" _Afraid you will blow me up?_ " I ask cheekily.

He huffs, " _it isn't funny._ "

" _Hm…_ " I shrug. " _I think it is._ "

His mouth moves down to my throat and my breath hitches as his teeth scrape the skin there. It feels like a thousand pinpricks of lightning dance over my skin. " _Ar lath ma, ma'sal'shiral._ "

And my heart clenches in my chest. "Are you sure you-"

"Nik," he says and then bites down a bit harder.

My toes curl and my back arches and a surprised gasp escapes me.

"I'm sure," he says, planting kisses up my throat and then back down to my shoulder. I went to bed in my underwear, so there's just…bare skin there.

And where his hands are pressing into my back. My thigh over his hip…I'm half naked. Didn't occur to me until now.

He slows and sighs into my hair, "my apologies."

"For what?" I ask, incredulous.

"I've…kept myself distant from you, it is…not your fault that you assumed it was for the same reasons that… _he_  did." He says, surprisingly enough.

"What other reasons are there?" I ask with some confusion.

He looks down at me, gently. "You are mortal,  _sa'lath._ "

I blink slowly. "Oh. I didn't…think that bothered you."

"The thought of loving you for a few decades, losing you and then having to go on without you- bothers me immensely," he responds.

I bite my lip, "sorry."

"It isn't…there is nothing wrong with…this. With us. With our…" he struggles. "I simply had trouble coming to terms with your mortality…I suppose you could say."

"Any…other reasons?" I have to ask directly or he'll dodge the question, or at least…I mean, that's what he usually does, anyway.

His fingertips trace designs over my waist and I shiver. He chuckles, "I recently realized…that the world is different than I thought it was. I…had my eyes closed to so many things, so many possibilities, simply because I refused to accept anything but my own…despair."

"But you see them, now?" I ask with some hope.

"I see…much more now than I did before," he hedges. "I am certain there is still yet…more."

And that's when I shove until I'm lying on top of him, and kiss him.

He makes a surprised noise and then his hands clench around my hips, moving up and down and across my back with firm pressure.

It's only when his hands cup the backs of my thighs and squeeze that I realize we're going further than we have before.

My hands are cupping his face, thumbs brushing across his cheekbones.

I slowly pull away, just one more kiss, just one more kiss every time I pull away…until eventually I'm staring down at his face, seeing the shine of his eyes in the dark but nothing else. "Are you comfortable with…touching?"

His fingertips clench and I gasp at the way they feel against my thighs, "obviously." He sounds so damn amused. Ass.

I huff, "well. Not here. We're in a  _tent_. Come on." I get up and grab one of my robes.

"Where are we going?" he asks, and I can hear him standing up.

"You'll see when we get there," I respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who'd skip sex scenes, the next chapter won't have sex of any kind in it, but it will include intimate touching, kissing and other sensual/sexual things.


	147. Solas POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One or two more chapters after this are going to be this conversation. This long...incredibly informative conversation...

She leads me to some ruins, long abandoned and dark…too dark to be walking around in.

I pull my hand from her grasp to attend to that.

After I light a few of the wall sconces, I feel a flicker of magic behind me and turn to-

She is standing naked in the middle of a clear pool of water, activating some sort of heating rune. Ah, an ancient bath house. I heard her moving and the sound of…but I hadn't thought…

I stare for a few moments, unable to look away. It isn't as though I haven't seen her undressed before. Not quite completely, but…she has injured herself  _everywhere_  at one point or another.

I can see the thin, thread-like scars from the first rift.

That is what draws me closer. I stop at the edge of the water for a moment and trace her form with my eyes, then realize I can be even closer, if I…join her. Which is no doubt her intention, though she makes no mention of it.

She is simply leaning against the far end of the pool, arms crossed with her head resting atop them, waiting. Patient.

I discard my clothes, wrapping them around my pendant and settling them carefully on the floor nearby.

Then, I walk slowly into the pool, sighing softly at the way the heat seems to seep into my bones.

"Feels nice, doesn't it?" she says. Breaking the silence.

"It does," I respond, drifting closer and closer, eyes never moving from her form.

The jut of her shoulder blades, the groove of her spine- how her hair splays wetly across her skin, over her shoulders…I can see everything under the water. It is too clear to hide anything.

My hands find her hips and she twitches at my touch, as though surprised. "You said you wished to touch," I say in a hushed voice. "Why are you hiding?"

"I've never done this before," she answers frankly. "Not…any of it."

"Never?" I find it hard to believe she has no experience with…this. "How are you so wise without any experience?" I find myself blurting.

That has always drawn my curiosity. She knows so much but had seen so little, done so little, before she came to Thedas.

She huffs a laugh and half-turns to look up at me from under a fringe of wet hair. "I'm not wise."

I sigh, "Wisdom itself calls you 'wise'."

She falters at that, "I…okay. Fine. Maybe I'm wise. Why does everyone act like it's hard to be, anyway?"

"That's it?" if I had known I could use a spirit's opinions against her to make her admit her capabilities, I'd have begun much sooner. "No argument?"

"Of course not," she responds, puzzled. "If the embodiment of  _wisdom_  says I'm  _wise_ , I must be wise." Her nose wrinkles. "I mean, maybe I just don't actually know what  _wise_  means."

I stare at her in awe for a moment. "How do you do that?" How has she  _always_  done that?

"Do what?" she raises a brow.

And it suddenly hits me that I hope she never discovers exactly how exceptional she is. Because that is the moment she will cease to be…this. Telling her how much I value her and attempting to make her evaluate life differently are…vastly separate.

"I love you," I say. Lifting my hand to cup her cheek.

Her eyes widen and her face flushes even as she leans into my touch, "that wasn't…really an answer to my question, but okay."

I chuckle and pull her in a bit closer. One hand still holding her face, the other curled around her hip. Pressing our foreheads together so I can look into her eyes and enjoy the way she reacts to my closeness.

I can feel her hold on her soul, as it flutters and attempts to escape. She is fumbling with it, which has not happened in a very long time. Her emotions must be more than she can handle.

I murmur a short spell and she gasps as the weight of it settles over her, "does that help?" I ready myself to remove it. She reacts differently to magic than most, it may be uncomfortable.

"Yeah…" she sighs with half-lidded eyes. "It feels like…you're holding me, inside."

"I am," I respond. "You seemed to be having trouble, so I thought I should offer assistance."

She giggles and her head dips, forehead resting on my chest, "god. You're so…"

"I'm so…?" I ask, the hand that was on her face now curled around the back of her neck, peeling her hair away from it.

"Hm. Your fans would say, 'smooth af' which means 'smooth as fuck'," she pauses then. "Did I tell you about your fans?"

"No you have not," I respond easily. It hadn't occurred to me to ask, or even that I might have had them. I know other people have…experienced life in Thedas the way she has, but I did not consider the fact that they all knew me, until now. "What about them?"

She leans back far enough she can plant her hands on my shoulders and look up at me. She is biting her lip again.

I lean in to catch her lip with my teeth and she makes a noise and pulls away, "I'm trying to think!"

I laugh and rest my face in the crook of her neck, "alright. Tell me of these fans, then."

She traces her fingertips over my skin and I sigh heavily at the relief of it. It is no longer a burn but a warm tingle, a craving- no longer too much and too little at the same time.

"A lot of women are in love with you, back home," is not at all what I expected her to say.

I lift my head to give her a look.

"They are," she responds. "I mean, you're not as real there, but they still adore you. Because you're a shut-in like me, but you're not actually socially awkward. Because you…" her lips twitch. "Because you set your coattails on fire once and hoped no one would notice. And because your view of life and people are…different. Interesting."

I watch her expression, "tell me about him."

She blinks, "about…Dragon Age Solas?"

As if it were a title. My mouth curves in a slight smile. "Yes. Why…did you love him?"

She blinks, "I didn't. I was enamored of him. I didn't really know him, so I can't say it was actual love." She looks down at her hands as they rest on my chest. "Because he was complex. He confused and intrigued me, and I wanted to solve him like a puzzle."

Much the same way I felt about her, at first.

"I love  _you_ , because you have more depth and are more prone to change and self-improvement than anyone I've ever met," she says, looking up into my face. "Also because you snort at the end of a chuckle and that's fucking  _adorable-_ "

I make a frustrated noise and pull her close, covering her mouth with mine. I wasn't asking for compliments.

I enjoy them, of course…

I also greatly enjoy the feel of her skin against mine. The wet slide of it, her hair clinging to my arm where my hand is buried in it- the texture of the scar on her hip that I trace with my fingertips. Soft and raised.

Her mouth is soft, pliant, body giving in to me. And it strikes me, that this is not like her at all.

So I pull back and I cup her face in my palms and I wait for her eyes to focus on me. "Why are you holding back, now?"

Her face flushes, "I…" her shoulders are beginning to bow inward.

I release her face, "we can stop."

"That's not- the problem," she sighs, grasping my arms before they can drop completely. "I'm pushy."

"So I've noticed," I wouldn't call it 'pushy' but I realize what she's saying.

"My whole life…I scared men," her brow wrinkles. "I was loud and opinionated and I moved and spoke how I wanted…which was not in the sleek, demure way they wanted me to. I'm clutzy, I'm forceful and I…don't know if I…" her lips begin to purse.

So I move my hands, wrapping my arms around her waist to pull her in closer.

Her gasp and the flutter of her eyelashes is gratifying, but it isn't what I am looking for. She swallows roughly and her eyes still don't meet mine, so I use one of my hands to tip her chin up to look at me. "You are not this small person you are trying to be. I would prefer you lose the pretext altogether."


	148. Chapter 148

God, he doesn't even know what he's asking for, does he? Every single time I've pressed the boundaries, I've always been the one in control because he doesn't seem to like making the first move.

He's always receptive, but he seems to flinch back at the thought of being the one to reach out first. Probably a holdover from when he was surrounded by supplicants, ex-slaves and underlings.

"Maybe you wouldn't like that either," I say with some nervousness. "I'm…not just pushy, I'm… _dominant_. And I know you hate being…fuck, I'm not saying it."

He turns his face so he can grasp my earlobe with his teeth and I make a small noise. He tugs lightly before releasing me and his breath fans over my ear when he sighs. "I hate being dominated?"

I make an extremely loud scoffing noise without really meaning to, and he laughs into the crook of my neck with way too much abandon. I mean, god, his laughter is beautiful but he's making fun of me! "You led a slave rebellion for god's sake!"

He laughs harder and his arms tighten up around my waist, body bowing around mine. He slowly begins to calm down, his laughter turning soft and then it becomes a few chuckles interspersed with sharp inhales and then he's just shaking a little as I pout, waiting for him to be done laughing at me.

"Are you finished?" I ask with some petulance.

He pulls back far enough to look at me, fingertips starting to move over my back again, tracing unseen designs and then over my scars when he finds one…and I can always feel when that is, because they're a bit…more sensitive…than the rest of my skin.

His lips are bowed up in a slight smile and his eyes are doing that glimmering-with-mischief thing they tend to do when he finds something especially amusing. Ass.

"Why don't you just _ask_ me, what it is I would like?" he says. "Isn't that your usual approach?"

"That's just…because you never do…anything," I frown and realize I'm clenching my fists on his chest. "I've been starting to feel like you don't…really like it when I touch you."

His hands stop moving and he sighs heavily, " _ir abelas_ , _Vhenan_."

I shiver at that, my whole body feeling…he's never called me that specific thing before. That was…Dragon Age Solas's name for me. "I don't…can you not…call me, specifically that?"

There's a carefulness to his words now, "is that what he called you?"

"It's what he calls whoever romances him," I reply. It doesn't have to specifically be _me_ in the game. Any Lavellan who makes the right choices, says the right things…

" _Sa'lath, ma'sal'shiral, emma lath…_ " he mutters as he leans down to kiss my throat, _again_ \- why does he always go for there- I can't think straight when he does that, damn it.

We were talking, it was important-!

I move before I can really think about it, cornering him against one of the sides of the shallow pool, and stiffening up when I realize what I just did.

He murmurs in approval and covers one of my hands on his chest with his own, "touch, _sa'lath_."

I shudder, hard. It isn't really so much the suggestive nature of the whole thing, I mean- I'm not really all that interested in…things like this most of the time…

But I _want,_ now. And it's very…overwhelming. I mean, I've felt…this way before, but it was never directed at a real life, actual person before.

My fingertips run across his chest, tracing the planes and dips and curves they find there. I tip my head to the side so he can get to that spot just under my jaw that makes my legs go weak when he-

He makes a noise at the way I lean into him to keep myself upright and hums when my arms wrap around him so my hands can explore his back.

I find the scars there, the ones I saw before…and I trace along some of them with my fingers- finding some small and thin, others thick and unwieldy and I ask, "will you tell me the story about these, someday?"

He tucks me in tight under his chin as he lifts his head from my throat and wraps his arms around my shoulders. "No story. I was once a slave. I was…big-mouthed and not very prone to obedience."

I blink slowly, "who…I mean. You don't have to tell-" that was such a stupid question to start asking!

"Who owned me?" he asks quietly. "It doesn't bother me that you ask."

"I just…can't…" I can't imagine it. I can't see him as anything other than…straight-backed and proud and defiant…

"That is good," he says moving to bury his face in the hair at the top of my head. "That you do not easily see me in the role of a slave. I never was, not the kind they'd hoped I would be." He laughs a little into my hair, but his hands are clenching around my hips. Not enough to hurt, so I don't say anything. "They bound me in a prison of June's design and used my…essence…to build things. To…fight with, to hurt people…"

I grab his hands and move them to the ledge beside his hips, he's gripping way too hard- and the rock cracks under his fingertips. I can _hear_ it.

He goes limp with his face still pressed to my hair and apologizes in like, ten different languages. I recognize Elvhen, Antivan, Rivaini and even Orlesian, but the rest are all strange to me.

"Keep talking," I kiss his collarbone, the one on the left side. "Tell me."

He inhales deeply and shudders on the exhale, "are you certain you wish to know?"

"I always want to know everything about you," I reply. "If you want to stop talking, feel free. But I'm here. Listening." I move my hands up and press my fingertips into his skin on the way up, then rake my nails on the way down. Just enough to sting a little.

He hisses and his body arches a little into my touch. Interesting.

He doesn't move from his position, just readjusts, moving so his cheek is resting atop my head and he's leaning his hips back against the edge of the pool…hands still firmly planted where I put them.

Also interesting.

"It wasn't who you are thinking, whoever you are thinking," he says with a self-deprecating tone to his voice. "The Evanuris did not usually own slaves. The Nobles under them owned slaves, and the Nobles provided them for services. The Evanuris had…acolytes. One of which…called out to me. I didn't want to come, but I could not resist the allure of her… _arrogance_."

I can feel him tensing up, so I start kissing and nibbling at the line of his collarbone under my lips.

He sighs, "my body formed before I could stop it- her wish, her desire, my purpose to fulfill. To fit the image of her hubris. And then she _bound_ me, and I refused to do as she asked- no matter the way she ordered me or punished me for failing to comply, even with the… _vallaslin_ compelling me…"

He appeared with Vallaslin? It was probably part of whatever binding she did to him.

"Pride is one of the more powerful vices, you see…" he speaks slowly now. "If they could break me, they could feel fairly confident…"

"They wanted to use you to prove they could enslave the spirits," I say.

His hands crack the ledge a little more, "yes."

I move until my face is tucked into his throat and my hands move to cup his waist and slide down, tracing the ridges of his hipbones. "I'm so sorry she did that to you."

A sound that I suspect is more of a sob than a laugh, but sounds mirthful all the same, "she bound me in a Foci. And when that…worked. When she could use me, she…decided to bind more. I could not break free…and she began hunting down every spirit of Pride and Wisdom that she could find. Two sides to the same nature, compatible enough that they would not fight each other for dominance and shatter the orb from within…"

"Why?" I ask in the conversational lull, nuzzling further into his throat.

He shivers, "she wished to become one of them." There's a bite to his slight laugh now, "she didn't realize that I was still conscious inside the Orb. How could she? All she managed to do with each spirit she bound and absorbed was to…consolidate them all within me."

Oh my god. "I'm _so_ sorry." She basically force-fed him his own people, that's horrifying. I can't even fucking imagine how he recovered from that. Has he, actually?

"She prepared to ascend by consuming me and all the power I held…but when she drew me out of the orb in order to do so…I used the power to erase her binding. I…became physical as I did so. I scarred my face," He pulls away and grasps one of my hands with one of his to lead it up to touch that small scar above his eyebrow. Then his hand drops back to the ledge.

I touch the scar and realize…it was deeper and longer at one point. I trace over where I thought it might go. Down over the edge of his right eye, and up over to the edge of his scalp, most likely. "Where did it go?"

"I had to change my appearance when I woke up," he says with closed eyes.

I start tracing the features of his face with my fingertips. His eyebrows, the curve of his cheekbones, his jawline… "Red Solas, told me about that."

His lips twitch and he sighs, leaning into my touch, "of course he did."

"I told him I knew who he was," I say. "I…kissed him a couple of times."

He laughs suddenly and his eyes open as he looks down at me with amusement. "You say that as if I will suddenly develop jealousy of myself."

I roll my eyes, "I assumed you'd be disquieted by the idea of me kissing you without you knowing."

"He is not me," he says.

"And he is, at the same time," I reply.

He huffs, "I suppose. Thank you for telling me."

"I just forgot," I shrug.

His head shakes and my hands curl around the back of his neck, "the things you forget."

"So you broke free," I say. "But you were too powerful, right?" I can see what happened next. One of a few options would make the most sense. But I could be way off-base…

"There needed to be a way to bind me, but they could not keep me contained against my will." His smile is incredibly wry and self-deprecating. "No matter how powerful they were, it was against my nature to be bound by force…so they found a clever solution."

I tilt my head and rub the back of his neck with my fingertips, urging him on without speaking.

"They are known as the Forgotten Ones now…" his lips curl but it isn't a happy expression. "Desire, Rage, Fear and Pride. We were quite the blight upon the Evanuris's name. They hated that we even existed. We were contained within…I suppose you could say a prison, though we could go where we liked. The might of the Evanuris was able to separate us from most of our power, waiting…beyond…my own trapped mostly within the Foci where I could not access it."

"The stories said you were Evanuris, though, and you had the Orb…" I say, "how did you manage that?"

He grins, showing his teeth and it's the most wolfish I've ever seen him. "I embarrassed them and made them fear that I would surpass them until they formally acknowledged me."

Makes sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'cha guys thinkin...?
> 
> lol


	149. Solas POV

I've never felt this relaxed in my life.

We sit in the water, now. There is barely enough to crest over our shoulders, as I am…sitting on a bench-like structure along the inside of one of the inner walls of the pool.

After she led me to it and settled astride my lap, I raised a brow at her and her only response was… ( _Me and Viv took baths yesterday_ ) and a shrug.

Her warmth curled around me, my face settled comfortably in the curve of her shoulder and her arms wrapped around my neck…I feel…

"So tell me…" she traces her fingers over my shoulders and the back of my neck, up over my scalp.

I shiver at her touch.

"How did you embarrass the Evanuris?" always so curious, and the tone of anticipation pulls at my sense of pride. She is imagining something grand, I'd imagine. She always does, when it concerns me.

"It was easy," I reply. "I simply had to do more than they did. Not even that _much_ more."

And this is when I pause and wonder if I should tell her the rest.

She shifts on my lap and her fingertips glide over my shoulders, "I'm sensing you don't want to talk about this. You can skip that part, if you want, you know."

"I know," I reply. "Do you know the story of the Slow Arrow?"

She hums an affirmative.

"The People called out for help, against one of the beasts that Ghilan'nain had created," I say, hands squeezing her hips to draw her closer. As close as I can. "I decided that I would do what was necessary to save them…but not all of them." My body tenses in preparation for…I'm not sure what. Condemnation, rejection… "The adults were ripped apart, each and every single one. I only intervened to save the children and a few of the slaves."

She hums, "they didn't try to throw the slaves to the beast to save themselves?"

I shudder and curl further into her as her hand cups the back of my neck. "They did."

She makes a noise that I am certain is meant to be commiserating. Low and sorrowful. "The ones left were supposed to protect the kids?"

My eyes clench tightly shut against her shoulder, "yes."

"You feel guilty about that," she kisses the side of my face. "Why?"

I laugh, bitterly. "I could have done more, easily. But my only thought was to show off. My cleverness, my power…this is why I was relieved to find my capricious nature gone when I woke." I don't speak of Veil and myself and our…odd connection. I don't like to think of that part of myself. Those…parts. "I suppose I put those parts of myself away when I made the Veil."

"That's not how it works," she says softly in amusement. "I separated myself into parts once. I don't think we talked about her in very much depth..."

I recall her summarization of a half-thought-of plan to give 'Red Thedas' a chance by leaving a copy of herself there.

"But all the stuff I put into her, that were me…I just regrew them, because that's who I am," she says, fingertips clenching around the back of my neck in a strangely…pleasing way. It is a possessive grip, one I know I could break simply by lifting my head.

I don't.

"The reason you _didn't_ , is because you changed, all on your own," she murmurs into my temple, her other hand on my chest, fingertips toying with my collarbone. Tracing it with a fingernail, the sensation very sharp and intense and even moreso as she continues. "If you were still the same person, you'd have just grown those parts of yourself back."

There is a truth in that. I was capable of becoming the same kind of monster I was before, and I simply…didn't, somehow. After discovering Veil's consciousness in the mark, I thought perhaps I had an explanation.

But is it just that I simply refused to become what I hated most? Did I change my own…nature?

Before, I would have thought it impossible…but recalling all the things Wisdom and Excitement had to show me in the Fade…I think perhaps I shouldn't limit my understanding of anything to such a degree…not even myself.

"You're better than you think you are," she says softly. "You're my best friend and…I'm not sure if I can say it if it's incomplete, but- my bonded partner, and…"

A shock rushes up and down my spine, leaving me feeling…heady and drunk in a way. If I could be certain the Anchor would not interfere in our bonding, we would be…we are…

"…do you really think the person you think _I_ am would love you, if you weren't…better than that kind of person?" she finishes.

My chest aches and my fingertips tingle with overeager magic, leaping and rushing, begging to be set free. To rush across her skin and inside of her soul and connect to her completely, fully- to _bond_ …

Breathing deeply, I suppress the flow of it under my skin and sink further into the comfort she offers. It is…warm, quiet, safe.

Her grip on the back of my neck has not disappeared, and I sigh deeply into the curve of her neck, not meaning to speak- "tighter." But yes…that is what…I want.

There is a pause as she seems to process my request and then her grip on the back of my neck tightens until I gasp at the sensation of… "Good?"

I sigh again, hands falling limply beside my hips as my lips move, numbly. "…yes…"


	150. Chapter 150

I feel the way his body slowly goes lax and part of me begins to worry over it, even as I feel so…

So good, about it.

He's relaxing, he trusts me this much- but this is…really familiar, somehow.

This feels a lot like…

So because my paranoia will never leave me alone once something begins to occur to me, I use my grasp on the back of his neck to pull his head back enough I can see his face.

He inhales sharply at the slow movement, lips parted and eyes glassy and faraway- pupils dilated a little and getting bigger as I look down at him.

So I release his neck and slip backwards until I'm standing before him instead of straddling his lap, "Solas?"

He makes a discontented noise and regains some of his awareness, only to frown at me, "what is it?"

"I need you to wake up and be in the moment," I tell him gently with a crushing sense of… _culpability_ , I guess is the closest I can get.

I should've realized where I was taking him, but I literally just…acted on instinct. So much emotion on his part and so much reassurance and affection on mine, I should probably be shocked he didn't try to drop into subspace earlier.

He blinks, slowly at first and then closer and closer to normal as time goes on…a minute passes and then another and when he finally looks at me with a question in his eyes and asks, "what…is wrong with me?"

"Nothing, it's not…a bad thing, so much as a thing as we should've talked about first, but I didn't realize was happening, it's okay. It's nothing bad, it's not dangerous…" I hedge on that, "well. It would be, if I weren't here with you to help you come out of it, but I _am_ here, so you're fine."

He slowly stands up, rubbing his face and I step forward to grasp one of his arms and then tug him gently and slowly out of the bath.

He stands motionless as I use my robe to dry him off and then wrap myself in it. He helps me get him dressed, though it's slow-going. He wasn't deep enough to really fuck him up, but he was…teetering right on the edge there, I think.

God, I'm such a bad girlfriend, lover…bondmate, whatever the fuck I am.

I keep his pendant, as I don't trust anything around his neck right now and curl my arm around his waist, leading him out of the baths.

He smiles when I first curl into his side but slowly seems to come to the realization that he's impaired and doesn't understand _why_ or _how_ and begins to frown spectacularly. "I don't…understand…"

I sigh and shake my head, "I'll explain once we get back to the tent and you can sleep on it and…we'll talk in the morning. Okay?"

He settles at the promise of an explanation, humming in contentment.

It's not a super long journey, but I'm keenly aware of the fact that if I didn't have patrols in the area-we'd be completely alone in a war-zone.

I'm thrumming with paranoia, fear and a feeling of ' _danger! danger!'_ that makes me want to lash out at the darkness around us, the whole way back.

And then we reach camp and I smile at a few of the Scouts who spot us walking over to my tent. Acting scandalized always makes people think there's something to be hidden. People see me with Solas and just kind of assume everything's fine. We're _always_ together, it's _normal_.

So I help him to settle down on my bedroll and drop down to lie next to him, my body angled toward his, one of my legs hooked around one of his…my head resting on my fist, elbow on the bedroll next to his head.

He stares up at me with more alertness than he had before, but he's still a little out of it, I can see it in his eyes. "What happened?"

"Where I'm from…it's called subspace," I begin. "There've been studies- the most anyone can tell, it's just…getting high off of endorphins and other kinds of hormones…I didn't realize I was putting you into it, or I'd have stopped before it got to that point, I'm sorry."

"Is it harmful?" he asks with furrowed brows.

"Not usually," I respond. "I mean, if the person who put you there is irresponsible or doesn't pay attention to you, then maybe. But the state all by itself is just…an escape. Like…how I sometimes go inside my own head and I've got that dreamy smile on my face?" I ask. "Except what you just felt was…more intense and induced by feelings of safety, trust and affection instead of the desire to escape reality. You're…impaired in that state though. Like you would be if you'd gotten drunk, so…"

He hums, "I don't understand your need to discuss everything." That's a bit sudden and I think maybe he's still too loose.

"Yes you do," I respond. "Consent is important."

He chuckles, "you always ask when it is obvious how I must feel about it." He turns his head to look at me more directly, instead of kinda staring up at the ceiling of the tent and just glancing at me in his periphery. "I don't hesitate, I don't pull away…but you always pause to get permission regardless."

"Just because you're not saying 'no', doesn't mean you're saying 'yes'," I respond. "And people…get a little out of their own heads when they get…intimate."

"You are blushing," he points out with half-lidded eyes.

I huff, "I thought you understood my need to get consent."

His lips part and his brows scrunch up, "I did not think of it that way."

"How did you think of it?" I ask with a raised brow.

"I assumed you thought I needed to be asked," he replies. "It…irked me, thinking that you…thought I needed the extra confirmation."

I blink, "why?"

His lips perk, "Mythal used to ask me multiple times if I wanted something." He smirks a little, "not under the same circumstances…but…"

"What did she ask you about, then?" I ask. Then cuss myself out in my head because he can't choose not to answer right now, "ah, don't answer that-"

"Everything," he says. "After being released…after being given my orb…she thought to make absolutely certain that I knew what I wanted."

That sounds…incredibly condescending when you put it like that. But he has so much affection for her, it must have been…different than it sounds. "Did she just…overreact to your sudden freedom?" Now that I've opened this can of worms, I have to make sure I end on a sweet or at least, _not-_ sour, note. "Like…she was worried about stepping all over your wishes?"

He sighs and his expression becomes a little melancholy, "no. She felt she was teaching me to be a person. You see…" His lips quirk sardonically, "thinking of spirits as not…actual people…is not a new concept."

I feel a yank in my heart and curl down toward him, wrapping my arms around him and planting kisses over his cheek and temple.

He murmurs in approval and reaches up to twine his hands in my hair, like he usually does- and we kiss. And it's…soft and slow and sweet and it makes me…

I want to cry, in so many ways.

But I curl up with him on the bedroll, pulling the blanket over both of us and hum a soothing tune, stroking his chest with my fingertips until he falls asleep.

And then I wonder if he's ever taken issue with the way I treat Cole and I stay awake for hours agonizing over it.

' _What if I've been too patronizing and didn't realize it? What if I've been babying him without meaning to?_ ' And by the time I fall asleep, I've cried a little for many different reasons.

Because I've never been this happy, because I'm scared, because I feel like I might have made a mistake without meaning to, because I feel so…anguished and _angry_ at everyone and everything in the world that ever told him he wasn't enough or wasn't a person or…

Just… _fuck_.


	151. Chapter 151

I'm _so_ confused.

I woke up this morning to an already-awake and very… _chipper_ boyfriend. That word is seeming less and less ridiculous to me, somehow.

Solas was awake before me and brought me tea, and even managed to do it without wrinkling his nose at the scent of it as he handed it over, which he _always_ does when he touches a cup of tea- whether he's drinking it himself or not.

So I got up, got ready for the day and helped everyone break down camp with him- and every time we caught each other's eyes, he'd smile at me.

And I'm so confused.

He's Fen'Harel, secret spymaster, rebellion leader…person…and he didn't get totally freaked out at his loss of control last night? That'd freak _me_ out. I mean, I get upset when I'm left even a _little_ out of the loop. Losing control of my _body chemistry_ more than I usually do for my depression, anxiety and other issues? That would fuck me up.

So I wait until it's time to leave, and we've both hopped up into the wagon they got especially for me because no damn mounts will have me…

And I lean into his side, looking up at him with some caution… " _Are you alright?_ " No one will understand us. Dalish scouts aside, no one speaks Elvhen and even they have…a sorta incomplete and differently structured _version_ of Elvhen…

He chuckles and wraps his arm tightly around my waist, " _why would I not be?_ "

I frown at him, " _do you_ _ **remember**_ _last night?_ " Cause if not, that's fucked up and I…really dread having to explain it to him.

He's smirking at me, and it's giving me heart palpitations and irritating me all at the same time, " _is this your need to be certain I am certain, again?_ "

As if to say, 'yes I remember and you're doing that thing again, remember that thing?'.

So I pout, "shut up your smirky face."

He grins then, and it's like seeing a full moon after weeks of watching it wane. He was always beautiful and brilliant and… _everything_ \- but now it's sharper and brighter and he looks…so _young_. " _Why are you so worried?_ "

" _Because_ _ **I**_ _would not be okay,_ " I respond. " _You were able to stop the bonding and tell me before it happened, but I did not even_ _ **notice**_ _what was going on with the…until you were already partially there, and-_ "

He grasps one of my hands and lifts it to his mouth to kiss the back of it as he looks down into my eyes, " _I am not you,_ ma'sal."

It takes me a second to parse that he just called me 'my soul'. " _That is a…new one. Did you forget the '_ shiral' _or are there different connotations for that one?_ "

He smiles, slow and certain and leans down close so he can share breath with me. And then he says, " _It is a term that those who are bonded use specifically for those they are bonded to...romantically._ "

I blink, " _So…you are calling me…like what, the equivalent to…_ "

He makes a show of thinking about that while I die of embarrassment at the fact that I can't get the words out, " _wife. I believe, would be the closest. Or if you'd like to be precise, spouse. Partner._ "

My mouth drops open before I can stop it.

He laughs at me.

I smack him in the chest with my arm after taking it back from him. "Don't be an ass, that's surprising."

" _That I would consider you so, or that I would admit so?_ " he asks seriously. Watching me closely.

" _Both?_ " I say with some confusion. " _I did not think you would consider me to be anything like that until…the bond was…finished._ "

" _Finished or not, it is there,_ " he shrugs. " _Denying that fact is useless and…_ " he sighs, " _I do not wish to._ "

" _So…what does that mean?_ " I'm feeling a little light-headed.

He leans in to kiss me and there's an air of abandon to it that wasn't before. He just completely lets go and kisses me like no one's watching or like he doesn't care if they _are_ … and when he pulls away and smiles at my dazed expression… " _Whatever you would like it to mean, ma'sal._ "

"You aren't upset…at all?" I ask in a hushed tone.

He presses his forehead to mine, "no."

"Oh," I breathe.

"In fact, if I am going to feel this way afterwards…" he smirks a little. "Perhaps we should do it more often."

I nearly choke on air and flush up to my roots and hide my face in his chest as he chuckles at me.

"It's endearing how you can discuss the most disgusting or unsavory of subjects without issue and then become quiet and turn red when I allude to any kind of intimacy," he says, embarrassing me further. "Confusing, but endearing."

And we travel in silence for a long time. A couple of hours, I think…before I remember and get up the courage to _ask_ , because it's _important_ , damn it…

" _Do I talk to_ Cole _…wrong?_ " I ask with a shiver of anxiety in my stomach and a slight wobble of my lips.

He frowns at me, "what?"

" _You talked about how Mythal made you feel, remember?_ " I squeeze my hands together in my lap.

His expression becomes dawning and then amused and exasperated, " _if you had made a mistake, do you doubt I would have pointed it out by now?_ "

I shrug and drop my head.

He curls his fingers in my hair and tugs gently until I huff and look back up at him with red-rimmed eyes. " _I do not know, that is why I am asking_."

He smiles a little, though it's sadder than any smile he's given me all morning. " _You guide Cole, you do not…dictate or…invalidate his choices by asking him to reconsider. You give him only what he asks for, so…no. You do not speak to him 'wrong'._ "

And then I just kind of collapse into his side, shivering and shuddering and feeling so much _relief_ as a few silent tears escape me.

Thank god.


	152. Nik POV, Fenris POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hehehehehe

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Yvanna's got tears in her eyes as she holds a toddler to her chest and rocks her in her arms. "My babies, thank you!"

I smile with watering eyes myself, "you don't ever have to thank me, Yvanna."

Isabela was able to smuggle a fuck-ton of Slaves out of Tevinter in the new ship I bought and had reserved for her to pick up in Seheron.

Varric, Dorian and Josephine all helped me to set up the purchase, make it as anonymous as possible and keep it protected until Isabela could get to it.

She's standing off to the side now, drinking a tankard of ale and looking self-satisfied but soft in the eyes.

"I will thank you until I die," she says, reaching down to secure a slightly older child that's clinging to her leg.

A nearly adult kid hugs her from behind, his face hidden in her hair. Probably in his late teens or super-early twenties.

"Something I need to speak with you about, your holiness…" Isabela drawls in a very sinful fashion.

I glance over and nod, "meet me over in my cabin."

She nods and saunters off in that direction.

Since we've set up so near to the Arbor Wilds, we have cabins instead of houses- but it's better than tents. It's amazing how fast you can get things built if you have people working with magic as well as just wood, brick, clay and straw and other shit like that.

We have a miniature village with a sort of spiral, star-shaped configuration and plenty of room for expansion.

All the slaves came with Isabela and her crew has taken her new ship somewhere. I didn't ask where. The ship was the price for her skills in smuggling slaves- and partially her way to transport them all.

She took them from Tevinter to Seheron, then from Seheron to Rivain, then went all the fucking way down through Antiva, Ferelden and Orlais to get the slaves to me- and I mean, she could've just snuck 'em across the border, but at least this way, anyone chasing them down will have a lot more difficult trail to follow.

"Yvanna, I want you to take your kids and do something fun," I tell her very sternly as I turn back to her. "You're not working today. I know you did yesterday and the day before and I am giving you the day off just to go and spend time with them, okay?"

She looks at me with her watery eyes and nods, very seriously. "Thank you, Nik."

My heart feels like it just slapped my ribs with the full force of a runaway train and I gasp loudly at the feeling of it. " _Thank you_ ," I reach out and grasp her arm, squeezing lightly, as that seems to be the full range of touch she can handle from anyone outside her family and beam at her. "I've gotta go and see to a few things, but I want you to have fun. Anything you want, find Leliana and tell her to buy for you on me. Anything you want."

I walk past the small gaggle of slaves reuniting with lost family members and down the street further toward the center- where the cabins of the Inner Circle and higher-ranking officers are.

I'd rather have a cabin right on the edge instead of in the center- this feels too much like using my own people as shields and I hate it, but Leliana and the others wouldn't budge on this.

So I sigh and walk into my newly-erected, one-room cabin and stop on the threshold.

I think I've walked into the wrong one until I see my canvases with the half-finished paintings on them- and Isabela sitting on my bed…holding onto a little Elven girl with fiery red hair, yellow-green eyes- and she's kissing all over her face until she giggles and wriggles and tries to get away. She looks to be about…four or five?

I have no idea what I'm looking at. "Uh…Izzy?" does she have a secret family? Cause you know, _cool_ , but…huh?

She looks up, apparently just noticing my entrance. She gestures at the other Elves in the cabin, "say hello to the family."

A guy in his…forties, maybe fifties- with salt-and-pepper hair and blue-green eyes…and a teenage girl with reddish-brown hair and emerald eyes as well as a young man with black hair and hazel-green eyes and a woman with blonde hair and brown eyes who looks to be in her thirties?

"Uh…hello family? Whose family, exactly?" I walk over with a quizzical tilt to my head. "I'm Nik, hello, nice to meet you."

"You'll never believe it," Isabela says with a grin.

I blink very slowly, "uh…okay?"

"She said you have my Nephew here," the man speaks and steps closer. "I haven't seen my sister in a very long time, and I'm told she died of an illness. I would like to meet my nephew, please will you take us to Leto?" The thick accent is hard to place but I assume it's from Seheron- and then I put the pieces together and recognize the name and my mouth gapes open.

And closes, and opens and closes until Isabela stands up with the little girl and walks over to poke me. "I found 'em mostly by accident. Just figured, why not look into it and there they were. And I figured, why not, right? So…"

I turn and grasp Isabela's shoulders, "I _love_ you."

And then I turn and streak out of the cabin like hell is chasing me, "stay here, I'll be right back!"

* * *

 

Fenris POV

"Inquisitor, why are you crying?" this woman is beginning to unnerve me.

She came to find me on the front lines, shouting my name, nearly hysterical- and she has been leading me through the cabins, babbling about something Isabela's done with tears falling from her eyes.

I know not what she expects _me_ to be able to do about it, but I am curious.

"I didn't know she was going to do this and I didn't have warning, so I didn't hide it, I didn't try to hide it, I didn't _know_ \- and she didn't tell me-" she's still going on about it. "Oh my god, I can't even believe- but it makes sense because there would have to be a lot if they had _any_ because-"

She sucks in a deep breath as we reach the Cabin inscribed with the symbol of the Inquisition and her name carved into the wood. "Don't freak out, when you see them. Okay? They don't know anything about anything to do with you, they're just…they were just…"

She struggles for words before opening the door and gesturing me inside.

I walk in to find an entire family of Elves sitting on the one bed and passing a bauble between them. It's something round and glass with some kind of different-colored glass caught inside. One of the children quickly places it back on what I assume is its cradle and they all stare at me with wide eyes as I approach.

"Hello?" I ask awkwardly.

"Leto," the man addresses me with the wrong name and stands from the bed- with my nose and eyes that almost seem familiar in shape and I stagger backwards.

"Fenris, it's okay, breathe," the Inquisitor is fretting at my side and so many things become clear in an instant.

Because I now see the tiny girl held in whom I assume is her mother's lap and…

She is the very picture of Varania.

The rest of them all have features in common with myself or with her, but she is the one who looks the most…like…

I find myself staggering forward and falling to one knee before the child, unfastening my gauntlets and reaching out to offer her my newly unburdened arms. I don't know what drives me, I don't know how to feel, I can't see anything but this small girl with red hair and green eyes looking at me with shyness and reaching back to me with hesitation.

I feel nothing but the warmth of her small body in my arms when I pull her into my embrace and smell nothing but the scent of her hair and hear nothing but her small voice humming a soothing lullaby that feels familiar- until I feel the other arms and hands and hear other voices calling out to me as the rest of- of-

-my _family-_

…embraces me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are any of you crying? Tears in your eyes? There was in mine when I wrote it.


	153. Vivienne POV

Villa Maurel and Chateau D'onterre fell into our hands readily. Both 'Lions' of Orlais are attempting to take them out from under us…but they know nothing quite like a mage archer firing spirit bolts made of fire at them or Arcane warriors using spirit daggers to dance through their lines and kill them before they know they've trespassed upon protected ground.

And now…one wrinkle that I can smooth…will soothe my mind. It is not a problem, simply…a missed opportunity.

"But you see, my dear- you can do so much more than this, for these people," I say to the young man who is foolishly refusing his birthright. "Having a real Noble backing them, one with ties to the Inquisition? How can you possibly refuse?"

He is calling himself 'Fairbanks' and he shakes his head at me, "what could I do that the Inquisitor isn't already doing?" He chuckles and gestures at the base that has been transformed from a dirty cave into a network of homes, lookout posts and tiny shops. "We are a _village_ , now. She's giving us food, employing us…what more could I do or even ask for?"

"Then think of what you could do for the Inquisitor, instead." I tell him with a tilt of my head. "The more Nobility she has supporting her, the more the Lions will be desperate for her approval and wish to ally with her. The more she will have to bargain with to end this wretched war."

He is a handsome man, he would marry well with his charisma and other charms- he could marry _very_ well. We could gain much from becoming his ally- he is already the mayor of this small village, but he could be the very wealthy, well-connected mayor, married to someone important.

He sighs, "I would like to help however I can…but how will my holding a title really help anything?"

I smile bright and sharp, "oh my dear man, you must leave all of _that_ to us. It _will_ help, you needn't worry about _how_."

He purses his lips, and I smile in triumph when he looks up and nods his head at me. "Alright then, just… tell me what to do."

… … … …

After dealing with Fairbanks and his ridiculous refusals, I strike out into the wilds beyond the Inquisitor's main base of operations after a full day of travel and find all of the herbs I can get my hands on- harvesting the rarest and most healthy of whatever I can find.

I will need more than just herbs, I will need so much more. How to get it, how to find all of it, how to…

How will I save him if I can't-

I stop in the middle of a clearing, staring blankly at a few Royal Elfroot plants and I feel a swell of hopelessness overcome me.

I accomplished something today, and I will fight until I can fight no longer- but what will happen to me if my Bastien…

No! I shake myself of those thoughts and stride further into the bush, picking the most obscure herbs I can find- not many but enough to start with- and then I walk back to the village and up to my cabin… and lock myself inside.

First, a bath. I must clean off all the residue from the rashvine before it absorbs into my skin. I have a special cream to keep it from giving me a rash, as well.

And then I will dress in clean clothing and get to work. I musn't tarry any further than that.

There is a knock at the door, then. "Vivvi?" the Herald.

I breathe deeply, uncertain I can face another person at the moment, "come in, my dear."

I begin unfastening my dress and walk behind my privacy screen to remove my garments. If she cannot see me, perhaps she will fail to notice my fraying edges.

"Everything alright?" her concern is alarming-

' _Have I not hidden well enough, have I shown weakness-_ '

"I am quite well, Inquisitor." Did my voice waver, am I hidden behind this screen or can she see into my soul? I am beginning to wonder. "Do you require assistance?"

I step into the bath I had prepared before striking out into the wilds and heat the water with a wisp of a thought, scrubbing my skin with the oils that will remove and nullify most of the rashvine residue on me.

"I've been noticing you've been…experimenting a lot recently…" she begins with hesitation.

She knows something, then. She knows I am…trying to do _something_.

"Do _you_ require assistance?" she asks.

I scrub the rashvine from my skin and step out of the tub, drying myself with another thought. "I can't think of anything off-hand, my dear. Why do you ask?"

There are many things I need, but it is unlikely she will expend resources on something so…rare, for me. We barely know each other and she is constantly denying me further influence, I can't imagine that…

"You know you can tell me, if you need help, right?" she asks with sincerity dripping from her voice. "I think you need help, but I can't help if you don't tell me."

Always the sincerity, always the kindness, always the genuine feeling-

I step out from behind the screen, fastening my robe mechanically as…as I lose control of my tears for the first time since I was a young girl, looking at the Inquisitor with eyes wide with pain and fear as they drip over my cheeks, down my chin and onto my robe… "my Bastien is dying."

Her face crumples and she rushes to meet me as I bow forward, teeth gritting and a wretched sob escaping my throat.

She holds me as I cry, saying nothing, not shushing or soothing or even attempting to wipe away my tears.

Her arms are strong as they hold fast to me and her hair is soft and scented of lavender and lilacs when I hide my face there and slowly wilt to the floor.

She moves with me, cradling my limp body as everything crashes down on me.

She says only one thing as I fall, "I'm here."


	154. Chapter 154

"I've stayed away from him all I can stand, Inquisitor," Cassandra is kneeling before a statue of Andraste. "I have done as you asked, I have not… _harmed_ him. But I want to. I have never stopped wanting to."

I kneel down next to her, "yeah. I figured that."

When Varric first brought Hawke, I ordered Cassandra to stay the hell away from Varric, to ignore his presence until such a time she was thinking more clearly and stopped wanting to throttle him. She didn't like it, but I put my foot down on that one.

So now, I'm dealing with the fallout, I guess.

"He lied to me, to _us_ ," her face twists in a snarl, "he is a _snake_."

"He's a loyal friend. And if you were on the other side of this, you'd commend him for it," I comment. "What really bothers you is the 'what if' question, not Varric and his lies."

"What question is that?" she asks and sits back on her haunches. Brows drawn tight.

"'What if Hawke had been there, what if he could've saved her'," I say.

Her expression tightens, "and? Perhaps he _could_ have saved her." With a cracking voice.

"Maybe," I remark. "Or maybe they'd have both died. Maybe it would've ended up the exact same way…maybe he could've killed Corypheus before the Breach even happened…but the what ifs, didn't happen." I turn my head to look at her, and purse my lips. "Hawke and Varric aren't who you're angry with. You're angry with the Maker for taking her. Angry at yourself for believing Varric when he told you a lie and even angry at yourself for blaming him…and you're angry at me."

She turns her head to look back at me, "at you?"

"For living," I respond. "For surviving. For not being her. For not saving her."

Her brows bunch and tears fill her eyes, "I would never wish for anything to happen to you, Nik."

"Not _now_ , but resentment builds up over time, whether you like it or not, if you don't discuss it and resolve it," I say. "You're still trying to pack away all that unused, leftover resentment and anger at me for surviving when she didn't. It's okay."

"It isn't," she whispers roughly. "I am lost. I feel…as if my whole life is a lie. A joke. The Seekers are…Maker knows where, doing Maker knows what…and I feel as though the Maker himself…" she bows her head, "is punishing me. But I do not know for what."

"The Maker doesn't intervene in your life, remember?" I say. "Things that happen to you are because of the actions of others, accidents of nature…shit like that. There's no divine purpose or malice behind it. Even if there was, it wouldn't be punishment. It'd be impetus for personal growth."

"And how is it I would be growing from this?" she asks, frowning. "What should I be doing?"

"Finding the Seekers, maybe?" I ask with a slight tilt to my head. "If you figure out that whole mess, maybe you might feel better. Get some closure on things, figure _other_ things out…" find out that they always had the cure for Tranquility among other secrets that could've been used to help Thedas and realize they were as corrupt as anyone else, then reform the Seekers…

She inhales deeply, "I have been tracking them…but if you think it is important…perhaps I should go looking myself."

"If you go anywhere, take someone with you," I reply. "Blackwall and the Blades would probably be a good choice."

"Do you not need Blackwall for the march to the Western Approach?" she asks with furrowed brows.

"Nathaniel and the others will be there, so…not really," and he's not an actual Grey Warden, so there's also that.

"Has he finished dealing with the undead?" she asks.

"Pretty sure he got done this morning. They'll be back by this evening, or tomorrow morning. You should leave the day after," I reach out to grasp her shoulder. "Tonight and tomorrow…you should take some time to reflect on how you feel and why…and I think maybe I should say…I'm sorry I couldn't save her for you, Cass."

Her head dips, and I swear a tear falls from her eyes, but when she lifts her head, she's not crying. "It wasn't your fault that she died."

Oh Cass, it probably was. "I don't remember. I mean…it's possible I could've done more to save her."

She shakes her head and smiles wanly at me, "if it were possible, you would have done it. Hawke blew up Kirkwall, almost died to kill the Arishok and got lost in the Deep Roads…he wouldn't have done better than you did."

Well that's…nice. Insulting to Hawke, a little, "I guess."

"I will stay here for a while. You should join the others in deliberations," which is Cass's subtle way of signaling that she wants to be alone.

So I smile and grasp her shoulder, then stand up and walk away from the tiny shrine that was erected up against the side of a big ass tree.

There's a lot of shit happening all at once. Vivienne finally told me about Bastien and I'm finally able to send a team after that damn snowy Wyvern for her in earnest. I mean, I had them tracking it anyway, but mostly just because it's rare and in case I heard it could be used for something besides the potion so I could just walk up to Viv with the heart and be like 'hey, can you do anything with this? I have no ideas' and then she wouldn't _have_ to tell me…

I could tell she didn't really trust me, still doesn't…so I didn't want to push it. I have plans for Vivienne, and I know I'm doing exactly what she'd want me to, but I can't tell her about it or everything would be flubbed. She can't know beforehand, in case it falls through. I'd never earn her respect back.

I've _barely_ got it now.

I should still be telling her anyway, but I'd rather she forgive me for a small transgression over a huge loss like…well.

I pause on my way back into the tiny village we've erected and gaze backward at the Arbor Wilds. Where Abelas and his Sentinels wait.

Then I look in the other direction, toward Halamshiral and the Ball that will be happening soon enough and…then in the direction we're going to start traveling in two days, toward the Western Approach, and Adamant…

Shit's going down. And it's happening all…so quickly.

And then I see Fenris walk by with little Avelia in his arms, tipping her upside down until she giggles and shrieks in delight and the smile on his face just…makes my heart clench like it never has before.

Everything we'll go through, everything I'll have to do, it will all be worth it. If only for the smile on each of their faces, if only to give them safety and security…

And there's Artemian and Varice, the other two cousins, trailing behind Fen and tiny Avelia. I've been noticing that he seems to lavish attention on the youngest…and seeing her hair color, I wonder if it's because it feels like a second chance with Varania.

Artemian and Varice seem to worship the ground Fenris walks on, but well…why wouldn't they? So his attentions falling on Avelia more often than them seems to irritate them, but not to the point of bad behavior. At least…not _yet,_ anyway.

In the meantime, it's just adorable.


	155. Chapter 155

" _ **She is still resisting our suggestions to name an heir,**_ " Leliana's voice is distorted through the crystal. " _ **The Heralds we have in our pocket and those supporting us…they are keeping the pressure on, but still she seems frustrated and unwilling.**_ "

I sigh and hold up the square, extremely-thin crystal that Dagna came up with for us to talk over long distances and be able to see each others' faces through, so I can look directly into Leliana's eyes, sorta.

Everything is Red and I can't see all the details, but it's so much like a video call on a smart phone that it comforts me.

"Just keep up the pressure and start trying to contact our ace in the hole. If you can pique her curiosity enough, we might convince her to meet with us before the ball," I bite my lip. "If you need to, promise her something you know she'll want and I wouldn't have a problem giving her."

The little Leliana on the crystal 'screen' nods, " _ **As you wish. And…I have a report on our missing people.**_ "

I sit up a bit straighter, "tell me."

Scouts, Soldiers and mages have been going missing from all over the fucking place and I can't _do_ anything because whoever it is- I.E. whoever's working for Corypheus this time, is being extra fucking careful. Cole can't even sense anything.

Samson or Calpernia? Someone new, maybe? This never happened in the games and I'm beginning to freak about it.

My people are going missing and there's nothing I can do about it yet, it feels like I'm just sitting on my hands!

" _ **It seems there were shards of Red Lyrium at the last abduction site, sheared off by a blade. Our people put up a fight,**_ " there's an undertone of pride in her voice that's mirrored in the shock of warmth that goes up and down my spine.

But it's immediately followed by the cold fingertips of dread. "If they're taking people, the Red Templars will be infecting them."

" _ **What do you want us to do in preparation for finding them?**_ " she asks.

"Dagna prepared some concentrated potions for extreme exposure from those Drake Berries, didn't she?" I ask.

Her image nods, " _ **I will have them sent to the three most likely locations.**_ "

"Send it to the two locations on either side of the third," I say. "If it _is_ the third location, we'll have two groups converging- if it's the first or second, they'll have the supply necessary. If we divide it up too much, it could get stolen or destroyed a lot more easily and those serums are extremely valuable."

" _ **I will send one of the fruits, preserved in a jar to the third,**_ " she says.

I nod, "that works."

"Schemer!" Varric opens my cabin door and rushes inside, "Schemer, I gotta problem!"

I blink at him and turn to the crystal. "Call ya back?"

" _ **I will take care of the arrangements. Call if you need something. Otherwise, we are finished,**_ " she bows her head and I slot the crystal back into its' place in the picture frame behind my small painting of a Halla on my desk.

Then I turn to Varric, who…looks pretty ragged. "Varric?"

"I need your help," he says. He points at the crossbow on his back. "First, I have to tell you about-"

"Is this about Bianca?" I ask. "The real one?"

He sighs and nods, "yeah. Should've known you'd know."

"She's in some kind of trouble?" I ask, readying myself to travel personally to Valammar with him.

"I don't know, that's why I need help." He says, running his fingers through his hair and pulling his ponytail holder free. He looks a decade older than usual right now. "She said she needed to talk to me about something, that she was coming to see me personally but then her correspondence just stopped and I can't get a bead on her. Last I know, she was in the Hinterlands."

I sigh, "I'll send some people to check out where I think she is." This isn't right. This isn't in the narrative.

He blinks and stares at me, "ha-…have you been keeping tabs on her somehow?" Tiredly as if he should've been expecting that.

"Not precisely, but I know she intended to go to Valammar," I say. "And I know why, too."

He stares at me for a long minute, "tell me."

"It's going to piss you off, and disappoint you," I tell him. "So you might wanna sit."

He walks over to sit on my rug, just kind of collapsing there, "just tell me you know she's alive."

I frown, "I don't know that."

His head bows and his blonde hair curtains his face, "what was she doing?"

So, I tell him.

I tell him about Valammar and what we would've found there if we'd gone _with_ Bianca…

"I don't know why she went alone, that wasn't how it went before," I shrug. "Alternate timelines…"

He looks me over with tired and suspicious eyes, "did you find out about this in the Red Future?"

I shake my head.

He sighs, "tell me."

"Alright," I agree. "But you can't tell anyone else yet."

He squints at me.

I roll my eyes, "Solas knows. No one else. Well. Except Cole. Cole knows everything about everything."

He nods, "tell me."


	156. Chapter 156

I've been training beside the Justicars since I first began the new, different kind of training for them.

I had to learn the different ways in which the Avvar, circle mages and apostates swung their magic around- how they interacted with it…how they felt it inside themselves.

I had to learn how to use a dagger, a sword and shield- and a staff. Throwing knives, grenades…I've been training a little bit in everything a little bit here and there when I have time. I even learned how to shoot a bow and a crossbow from Sera and Varric respectively.

Though Sara's approach to teaching me was to show me how to hold it and shoot it and then tell me to keep shooting it until I was better at it. So I also had to ask one of my Scouts to correct me.

I practice with Veil sometimes, when he's quiet and pensive and doesn't want to talk. I ask him to watch me train and he can usually be coaxed into correcting my stances with a touch or a whisper of power to move my body into the right form.

He even showed me a few moves that he knows from before the Veil. Ancient Elvhen techniques that have been adapted into Tevinter techniques and that's why I recognize them as some of the movements that Dorian does.

I'm not bringing that up until someone else does, that subject is just a minefield. I mean, I kinda figured all things magic sprang from Elves and that the reason Tevinter is so magical is because of their cannibalization of what was left of Elvhenan. The rape of their people, especially.

I'd be shocked if I found out everyone in Tevinter wasn't at least partly elf-blooded. Which makes all of it so much _worse_.

Cole's begun coming to training, to help teach dagger techniques and learn other ones he's taken an interest in.

He's sticking close to me during training today and I can feel his anticipation. Of something. He wants to talk, but about what, I can't imagine. We haven't encountered the demons bound to the mages yet.

He shudders in place and stops to turn to me, "I want to be bound."

There's a pause as everyone around us stops to look at him with wide eyes. "Cole…?" this isn't supposed to happen so early.

"I can see it all, I don't want to choose. I want to be bound. Solas won't do it, so you have to," he says. He's looking up at me from under the brim of his hat. "Please."

I blink, "I…uh."

"Well of course we'd be happy to have you!" I'm broken from my trance by Dahlia grinning and clapping her hands together in excitement. "He wants to be a Justicar, isn't that wonderful? We could use his expertise, don't you think?"

A slowly dawning smile breaks over my face, "I think that would be _perfect_."

It _is_! Oh my god, the binding goes both ways and it doesn't compel anyone to follow any orders- it just anchors them to each other, it's _perfect_ in ways I can't even describe!

Cole relaxes at the agreement, though he seems confused about how he just got roped into the Justicars. "I…will do what it takes to help."

"I know you will," I say with a smile and tears in my eyes as I step forward and throw my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. He's so fucking _tall_.

One of his hands rests on my back and pats softly, "I'm sorry I worried you."

"Don't ever be sorry," I mutter into his armor. "Not for just…wanting to be able to be you."

The choice was always flawed to begin with. Cole shouldn't have to choose. He chose a long time ago. He should be able to be who he is.

"I can see the answer, so clearly in you," he says. In a hushed tone, "I can forget without forgiving. I can be angry and still not let it make me into something different."

I nod my head, tears streaming from my eyes in earnest now.

He leans down a little to rest his face in my hair. Not really nuzzling like Solas does, just sort of…touching. It's cute when he tries to learn new ways to interact with people and it just makes me cry a little harder. "Vivienne is going to be sad when she comes back."

I sent her to Orlais to await the delivery of the snowy Wyvern's heart. I had Bull detour that way to help out with it. "She'll feel better when she finds out what I've done. I hope."

I don't think she ever really thought she could save Bastien. But she had to do everything she could, because if she didn't…? Well. Everyone always regrets what they didn't do, whether it would've been helpful or not.

"She has only ever wanted to be free," Cole intones. "But freedom scares her. So she wants freedom but she wants a freedom that is surrounded by fire."

I chuckle a little, "like you wanting to be you but making Cass and Cullen promise to kill you if you became a demon."

"Yes," he agrees. "Dorian is a few hours away…Fury wants the Mayor to hurt. Sera is bored."

I laugh and pat his back, pulling away enough to look up into those pretty blue eyes. "Sera's always bored. When Dorian gets here, can you keep an eye on Fury? Make sure he doesn't do anything you know I wouldn't like him to do?"

"It's in his nature to make you angry," he says.

I shrug, "fine. But he won't project. If he wants to piss people off, there's other ways. No manipulating their souls."

Cole nods, "that doesn't help."

I smile, "no, it does not."


	157. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so-- I can update with my fucking phone you guys! But...
> 
> I have to go through and fix all the italics and shit because apparently my phone can't handle copying and pasting from the doc manager I use to get my chapters in the right format online before posting.
> 
> So I can update, but it'll be slower than usual I think.
> 
> God this is so fiddly.

"I hate traveling _so much_ right now," Nik groans and leans into my body.

I renew the cooling runes underneath us and tap the barrier surrounding us in shadow to make it cooler inside. "And now?"

"Hating it _slightly_ less," she mumbles and curls tightly into my side. "Still hate it, though."

She has been strange for days. I have been mostly occupied with healing and organizing the mages, but when we are together…she is close. She clings to me as if frightened I will disappear. Then she releases me and seems to avoid my presence altogether.

I'm not sure if this is her way of attempting to give me space to do my work or if she is still afraid to lose me.

Or if she is simply trying to find equilibrium between her need to be close and her misgivings about always being the one to reach out.

I've tried. I have.

I've grasped her hand for a moment as we've walked together. I've curled my arm around her waist and pulled her close at night, but I think…perhaps it's not enough.

I never know when she will want me to reach out. I dislike displays of affection in public, not only for my usual reasons- to protect her from the words of others who will see- but also…I have simply never liked it. Or, I suppose, I do not like being the one to risk reaching out and possibly be denied. She would never deny me, but the fear is still there.

Adding onto that, my…jealousy, my need to have her all to myself- it is an ugly emotion she does not even recognize. Either she has never felt it, or she feels it so seldom it is nearly never felt. She would not understand my desire-- my _need_ to keep what we are, ourselves and our bond-- to myself, to _ourselves_.

Perhaps I'm imagining it and this is simply how she is in…what did she call it? A committed relationship? Perhaps there is nothing odd at all going on.

I don't think I'm imagining it.

But what can I do? We are traveling for three more days to the Western Approach, perhaps longer if the rendezvous point with Hawke is very far in. We have people to tend to, things to do and no time at all simply for ourselves.

I am loathe to enter her dreams and chance a glimpse of myself- my old self.

The way she speaks of him, with admiration and affection, undoes me. It…confuses and frightens me. That she thinks more of who I used to be than she should.

"We will be traveling for days yet, _ma'sal_ ," I run my fingers through her hair and feel her shiver against me. "You will have to find some way to cope."

"I don't think you'd like how I'd cope," she murmurs as she glances up at me with half-closed eyes.

"How do you know that?" I ask, fingers tangling in her hair and tugging to feel her shiver again.

She frowns, though it is subtle. "Do you want me to stop touching you so much?"

My breath leaves me for a moment, "no, I don't want you to stop...touching me."

She glances away and I see her lips tremble, "are you sure?" and I cannot hear the distress I can see, in her voice.

This won't be fixed with another reassurance, so I flick my fingertips and send her to sleep.

Then I pick her up, and settle her in the bottom of the wagon on our bed roll. We sleep when we can on this journey, though there is usually work to be doing, we would never sleep if we did not catch it whenever we could.

I settle down next to her and curl her into my side, pulling myself into the Fade easily with a simply flex of magic.

This conversation requires privacy.

… … … …

It takes her a minute or so to get into the Fade, as it does for her to get out of it, even longer if I am not putting her to sleep or waking her myself.

Rather than go to find her and possibly encounter…him…

I construct my own space next to hers and create an archway between them, inviting her in.

It is a lush garden filled with flowers and flowering herbs, climbing ivy twining around the trunks of weeping willows- that is what she calls them. We have another name for them, of course…but it evokes a certain melancholic air that I find I like.

She has told me that I enjoy being unhappy, not to a great degree, but enough that I can feel it. She…says that she is the same.

( _Better to feel **bad** than feel **nothing** , trust me. If you haven't experienced an entire chunk of life lost to Apathy…it's better to be depressed. If you have…I'm so sorry_)

And so I wait, sending small flower petals skipping across my newly made space and into hers. A twirl of blue, red and deep purple. I've noticed she prefers the darker colors.

She hates pink. I attempted to ask why but- her answer was rather confusing.

( _Because everyone told me I **had** to like it, I think. Also because it looks, just…ugh, to me. But mostly because people told me to like it, like I had to_ )

That made me laugh, as it was…not entirely expected, but it should have been, really. Though I wonder why pink was foisted upon her, was it some form of…holy color? Did her father make her wear it? I will have to ask.

She appears before long, curiously poking her head through the arch and smiling when she sees me. " ** _What's this?_** "

" _ **I want to spend time with you, away from everything**_ ," I respond. " _ **A feat which is impossible outside the Fade for now. And you were bored and unhappy, but, do you wish me to wake you?"**_

She thinks for a moment and then shakes her head, walking across the grass toward me. " ** _If_ you're _playing hooky, we must have already done everything we absolutely need to. Or you're going as stir-crazy as I am, in which case_** …"

She lowers herself next to me, kneeling and reaching out a hand to caress my face.

I hum and lean into her touch, then pull away to grasp her arm and tug her closer.

She moves to sit beside me, curled into my side in much the same way as we were in the wagon. And that is when I turn and gently press her into the memory of grass, hands tangling in her hair. I simply stare down at her for a very long stretch of time.

In the Fade…you could spend a week exploring and find only a day has passed in the waking world.

I will not warp time so much as that, but a bit…couldn't hurt.


	158. Chapter 158

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, this chapter took forever to get up from my phone. Ugh.

 

I didn’t expect him to flick me into the Fade like that, but I’ve mostly given him permission to send me to sleep whenever, so long as he knows I wouldn’t be pissed off to miss something or not be part of something that was happening.

Then the garden was another surprise.

And now, I’m trying really hard not to shrink into myself as he stares down at me with something unnameable in his eyes.

Contemplative, but also actively…like he’s trying to memorize my face. Is he still thinking about the me-being-mortal thing?

Now that he’s mentioned it, I’ve been dwelling on it a lot.

“ _ **Something wrong**_?” I ask.

“ _ **I am debating with myself over how to phrase what I feel so that you will not misinterpret me**_ ,” he answers frankly.

I blink and settle into stillness.

It takes him a minute to figure out whatever it is he wants to say, and in the meantime he just…stares at me. Eyes roving over my face, fingertips touching my cheek and throat and tracing the features of my face…

“ _ **I feel very…invalidated, by you lately**_ ,” he says carefully.

I feel a rush of cold and twitch where I am under him, “ _ **I…I’m sorry? What did I do**_?”

“ _ **I’ve told you multiple times that I don’t mind the touching, that it is…that I am unused to it. That I love you**_ ,” he says. “ _ **Regardless of the reassurances, you have insisted on believing I am somehow forcing myself to be with you, as if I cannot decide for myself, what I want**_.”

My mouth opens and he traces his thumb over my lips, silencing me. “ _ **I have still more to say, ma’sal**_.”

I bite my lip and search his face, but he seems more tired than angry. I mean, I’d expect him to be irritated with me. I do have a knee-jerk reaction to believe he’s going to just up and leave me, but I guess I should’ve considered how that would feel from the other side.

“ _ **I don’t know who gave you this idea that you are so difficult to live with, but I want you to listen to me when I tell you:**_ **they were wrong** ,” he says.

My insides cringe a little, “ **I…** ” I quiet at the narrowing of his eyes.

‘ _He lets you get it all out, you should do the same_ ,’ I remind myself.

He tilts his head at me, “ _ **tell me one thing. What is it that you do or are that you believe is so…difficult? So hard to live with. So terribly hard to love?**_ ”

I blink at him, and wait a moment. “ _ **It’s not…any one thing. And it’s…I mean, everyone’s hard to live with for certain people**_.”

“ _ **Certain people**_?” he asks.

“ _ **People who are neat and people who make a mess of their living space, when they live together it can go one of three ways**_ ,” I explain. “ _ **One: the neat person picks up after the messy person because they can’t stand the mess and they get more and more frustrated every time until they eventually explode at the messy person. And the messy person is just as angry back because they never asked them to touch their things, and they keep moving shit around.**_ ”

He shifts to start tracing over the shell of my ear and his other hand, still in my hair, pulls very slightly.

I swallow hard at the sensation, “ _ **two: The neat person is thrilled to live with the messy person because they like cleaning, they’re easily bored and they have free time they have nothing to do in. The messy person could like or dislike the situation, but there’d be more communication, as they weren’t both steaming up about it, so one would reach out to the other. It’d become a sorta…symbiotic relationship**_.”

“ _ **and three**_?” he asks, tugging lightly on my earlobe.

I shiver, “ _ **they stake their claim to their areas and the clean person keeps their areas clean and restrains themselves from cleaning up the messy person’s areas. They might get resentful of each other regardless, or they might be perfectly happy. Symbiosis, clashing and co-existing**_ ,” I explain. “ _ **There’s minute differences, degrees between each one, where one slips into the next. Those are the most extreme examples**_.”

“ _ **And you believe we clash, is that it**_?” his hand moves to my throat, then traces over my collarbones. I’m wearing something different than I was before, I think he likes me in floaty white dresses-- but I don’t know why.

“ _ **We’re on the line**_ ,” I say. “ _ **Between clashing and co-existing**_.”

“ _ **It is interesting that you think so, because until this moment, I rather thought we were closer to Symbiosis than clashing against each other**_.” he says.

I blink and then frown, “ _ **how the fuck does that make sense**_?”

His brows raise and his ears flick back, “ ** _what do you consider clashing,_ ma’sal**?”

“ _ **Wh**_ …” I’m at a loss for words. “ _ **We fight**_ **all** _ **the time! You just got mad at me for the Wisdom thing not that long ago, and you get mad every time I do anything**_!”

His expression drops and his brows furrow as his jaw tightens, but it smooths into something melancholic and calm. “ _ **I thought you said good relationships have arguments and differences of opinion**_?”

I stare at him in confusion, “ _ **you don’t trust me, that’s why you always get mad. I don’t like that you don’t trust me. So we clash. If there was trust, it would be a difference of opinion**_.”

He leans up and sits as I sit up in front of him. He’s watching me with an incredibly tense look on his face. “ _ **I don’t trust you**_ ,” he says. Not asking, but prompting an explanation.

“ _ **If you trusted me to know myself and my limits, what I do wouldn’t be a problem**_ ,” I say. “ _ **You might worry or be upset with me, but you wouldn’t act like you were telling a recalcitrant two-year-old to put down the bottle of poison**_.”

“ _ **I have stopped doing that**_ ,” he says quietly.

“ _ **Not really**_ ,” I respond. “ _ **You’ve stopped vocalizing it, but I can still see it written all over your face when I’ve done something you don’t think I should have. It’s not even just disapproval, which I could deal with**_.”

“ _ **I don’t know what you imagine you see, but I am telling you, you are imagining it**_ ,” he returns with tight lips. “ _ **All I have thought since our conversation in Skyhold, when you explained how to worry about you-- is that I could have**_ **lost you**.” He says with a clenching jaw. “ _ **Whatever you imagine you see, if it isn’t sorrow, panic and a determined acceptance-- then it isn’t there. And you are inventing reasons for this so that you will not have to admit that I am here and will stay here. The uncertainty is something you know, and you cling to it**_.”

I curl my arms tightly around my legs and pull them close to my chest.

“ _ **Tell him**_ ,” Veil’s voice echoes across the space between our bubbles.

I stiffen and curl into a tighter ball.

“ _ **Then I will**_ ,” he says as he appears in the archway. “ _ **If you are incapable**_.”

I hide my face in my knees, blocking out the shock and fear on Solas’s face as he faces Veil.

“ _ **I did not invite you here**_ ,” Solas says.

“ _ **If you want answers, you will not do that,**_ ” he says in response to whatever it is Solas is doing. “ _ **She cannot even speak anymore and it is not because she chooses not to**_.”

“ **Ma’sal**?” he whispers and reaches out to touch my hand.

I flinch without meaning to and his hand retreats, “ _ **what is happening**_?”

“ _ **There are some things she can’t unlearn, things that take time to get used to. She needs time to trust that her reality will not shift and leave her stumbling. She has never been as stable as she is in the Inquisition before in her life**_.” Veil speaks with very careful words. “ _ **It…takes a very long time to get over and unlearn things that were…beaten into you**_.”

I fall over on my side and curl into a tighter ball, curling my face into the space between my legs and my chest. ‘ _You’re being overdramatic_ ,’ I tell him, numbly. So my father spanked me, so maybe he did it with whatever was around sometimes, so maybe one time it was an extension cord that felt like a whip…

My entire family’s filled with people who got spanked, and they’re fine. Well. Most of them…mostly fine. More functional than me, anyway.

“ _ **What does it matter where they hit you or why**_?” he demands. “ _ **What does it matter that many other people thought it normal or that others could handle it? It hurt, it hurt you. You are not worthless and you do not have to be**_ **obedient** _ **to be worth something**_.”

And that’s when tears begin to streak over my face and I start to sob into the pretty white dress wrapped around me now, like a cocoon.


	159. Solas POV

 

“ _ **Hold her**_ ,” Veil rumbles, crouching close to her. “ _ **She can’t help the flinching.**_ ”

So I sigh and kneel next to her, “ **Ma’sal? Ma’sal’shiral** , _**I am going to touch you now**_.” I dislike that he is ordering me-- speaking to me at all…

My hand gently brushes over her exposed arm, brushing away the folds of her dress, which are attempting to wrap around her and hide her away. I believe Veil is the reason they are not succeeding. I would never stop her from hiding or running from me.

She flinches again, but settles as my hand grasps her shoulder, thumb brushing back and forth over the exposed skin there.

Her sobs are silent, but I can feel the sorrow and the pain and the rage bleeding out of her and into the air around us.

I don’t like that energy-- and it will attract unwanted attention, here. “ _ **We need to go back inside**_ ,” I curl her into my arms and stand, following the shadowy form of Veil as he glides back through the opening into her dream bubble.

As the opening closes behind me, I pause to curl her more tightly in my arms-- her face is hidden in my throat already, but my grip tightens and presses her closer. “ _ **What is this**_?”

“ _ **She’s spiraling**_ ,” he says. “ _ **You can’t fix it or alleviate it. We just have to wait for it to pass**_.”

He gestures and there is a seat that appears behind me, much like the armchair I had in the Rotunda in Skyhold.

I gently lower myself into it, shifting her into a more comfortable position. It is pointless, as she would be just as comfortable in a contorted position-- dreams do not precisely echo everything in reality the exact way you expect, even if the Fade does its best to try.

“ _ **Wait for it to pass**_?” I ask.

“ _ **We have done so since she arrived in Thedas**_ ,” he replies. “ _ **Sometimes when she sleeps at night…that morning when Cole had to coax her back to herself, she was still dealing with the tail-end of that night’s**_ …” he sighs, “ _ **she allows herself to break down in her dreams. To scream and cry-- I don’t interrupt. But you needed to know**_.”

My being tightens in anger and sorrow that she could not…that she had to hide herself away in her dreams, to need the outlet to begin with. Her usual problems are only triggered by contention, and she has experienced much of it since coming to Thedas.

Not from those who would follow her, but from many who would stand against her.

In our many war room meetings, discussing the riots and protests directly opposed to her, she always seemed so calm. Perhaps she was not.

“ _ **You aren’t touching on it, yet**_ ,” he says as he kneels before us, a clawed fingertip caressing her bared shoulder. “ _ **She never feared them, she rejoiced. The people were speaking. Whether it was the right people or not, they would…spread the thought, of rebellion and revolution**_.”

He has taken my younger form, for the most part. Mostly androgynous in appearance, moreso than the one I currently wear, by design…

I did not want to look as much like myself as I did-- it was out of necessity, but also a relief.

Something about his face, his eyes, his hair…something isn’t quite…me. “ _ **You have been taking pieces of her for yourself, I see**_ ,” I observe flatly.

He grins at me with sharp teeth, “ _ **I have stolen nothing that was not freely given. And the parts grow back. She hasn’t yet noticed**_ ,” he chuckles. “ _ **She sees me as I am, expects me to be nothing else, but as she knows I am you, or at least, supposed to be…it informs her vision of me. She tries not to let it, but it is difficult for her to remember**_.”

I inhale slowly and exhale until I can feel everything slow much more than before, “ _ **tell me**_.” A bit more time, for her, for us, could not hurt. If I must rely on…Veil… to keep her from spiraling in the future…it is worth it.

“ _ **She was taught to seek the approval of men, that is all**_ ,” he says. “ _ **It is not in her nature to do so. She fights against the conditioning, but it wins out. Every man with any influence over her at all…father, brother, uncle, cousin, friend…if they express even the slightest negative opinion of her actions, it is all she sees. She fixates upon it, becomes angry and depressed. Angry that she cares at all, depressed that she cannot meet the expectations she does not think she should care about**_.”

“ _ **And who…conditioned her**_?” I ask.

“ _ **Do you intend to cross worlds and burn them alive**_?” he asks with a baring of his teeth, “ _ **I have tried. I cannot find the way through**_.”

Not surprising, I was…am…a wrathful person.

“ _ **And you would need to burn her whole world**_ ,” he continues. “ _ **Many cultures there developed to think of women as less, to subjugate and demean. Even their niceties were designed to put down and cage them**_.”

Much the same as she’s told me, except… “ _ **She implied that was in the past**_.”

“ _ **Happening in the past does not mean it doesn’t happen now**_ ,” he informs me with a quirked brow, “ _ **And I imagine she was speaking of the fact that women were bought and sold from father to husband and other such things…it is better than that now, where she was, but not by a wide margin**_.”

I sigh, “ _ **why is it that she knows exactly what to say to make us all understand how to approach the slaves being rehabilitated, but she cannot articulate how it is we need to…accommodate**_ **her**?”

“ _ **You already know the answer to that**_ ,” he replies.

I do.

She would likely think it a bother.

Damn them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your thoughts? On Veil, on Nik's past, on Solas's reaction to all of it?


	160. Chapter 160

Drifting in peaceful nothingness is like…drowsing on the edge of sleep.

That pleasant feeling of being enfolded in warmth and that languidness in your bones…I'm thankful he put me down in that place after…my outburst.

I tried to apologize for freaking on him but he kept shutting me up, albeit in a way I can't complain about. Though that was _after_ I woke up, already in the Western Approach.

He kept me in the dark place a while, till I calmed down, then he let me 'emerge' from it back into my Fade bubble.

We didn't really talk then, he just recreated the garden inside my space and lay with me for a while, fingers running through my hair as I breathed and got a handle on the aftershocks.

And then, it had been so long since I'd seen anyone outside, I…thought about them.

And suddenly, Dorian and Vivienne were waiting on the edge of my space, looking frightened. They calmed somewhat when they saw me and Solas, but not by much. Dorian calmer than Vivienne by leaps and bounds. He's really starting to roll with the punches with my weirdness.

I can still remember the shock in Solas when he saw them and turned to me- ( _You invited them in_ )-and I had thought before then that maybe they were wayward spirits- it was really them, though.

Solas is the one who explained I was experiencing… _disorientation_ \- is how he described it. That I was resting to rectify it and I sought out their presence by accident for comfort.

Vivienne asked questions about the mark and how it made me able to pull people into my dreams- she was still afraid. I wanted to let her out, but she wasn't trying to escape so I couldn't just send her away.

Dorian was just a little bit in awe, I think. He listened to Vivienne asking questions and held up my other side, allowing me to lean on him a little like I was on Solas to my right.

I drifted, dazed- I couldn't comprehend it all at once, so the information filed away and slowly everything came to be understood over time.

Then they left and I tried my best not to think of anyone else- the mages were the most affected by my 'summons' and I didn't want to pull harder and end up with Sera or _Varric_ -if it was even possible. That would terrify them. Not to mention Bull or Cole. Cole doesn't even really sleep, he mostly just drifts, half-awake. And he really didn't like being physically in the Fade, so…maybe he's afraid of getting drawn back in?

So at that point, Solas decided it was time to wake up soon- he explained something about warping perception of time around and then I was waking up to the Western Approach's stifling heat and the faces of two worried mages.

Vivienne is in Orlais, so I drew her across a sea and a continent to be in my dream- I hope she's okay.

Dorian and Solas haven't left my side all day- I think Dorian senses I'm kind of out of it and Solas is worried I'll burst into tears again.

But I feel good. After realizing I was making _myself_ feel that way and that I really _was_ imagining it.

I was wrong, I was wrong…he doesn't think I'm a failure, he doesn't want me to cater to his every whim- which I already knew but…it's different to hear it.

I can still remember the words he'd murmured in Elvhen to me as I was drifting in that dark place, only his voice permeating the nothingness…

( _ **If it is not in your nature to obey, then do not. I will still love you in the morning if you refuse to obey. I will not ask you to follow me like a**_ _mabari_ _ **after their master. You have done more for**_ _Thedas_ _ **than I ever dreamed possible. I am so proud of you, my soul.**_ )

So…there's relief in knowing you were wrong- and I'm so sad that most people can't feel it. That they don't allow themselves. Because I feel so calm and at peace in this moment, it's like nothing I've felt for a long time.

I pick up one of the reports from Wycome and grin at Zev's indolent writing style.

_My Dear Inquisitor,_

_I am certain you already know of our efforts to refurbish the Alienage in Wycome, but I have a request to make. These homes are so tiny and useless as…well, homes…that I would like to tear them down and build new. Or perhaps knock down the walls between them to make the spaces larger._

_Cannot have our servants and children stuck in closets after all, yes? And there are many…mansions in the upper quarter we could perhaps re-purpose instead?_

_Yours Always, Z_

"Dorian, do you think you'd wanna marry my Zev?" I glance over my shoulder at him.

Dorian chokes on his wine, "what?"

"I introduced you to Zevran, didn't I?" I grin. "How 'bout it?"

"What has he done now?" Solas asks with a tired sigh from the armchair where he's been going over those Fade books that are _all wrong_ and in need of _corrections_. He loves tearing those things apart and putting them back together. Like a fangirl with meta.

"He's asking how to house the elves but he's all nervous I'm gonna say no," I reply with a grin. "He gave me the options of fixing the Alienage by ripping it all out and building anew or re-purposing mansions."

"Why not both?" they both say, tilting their heads and blinking their eyes at me in a way I think is supposed to mimic me.

I pout, "fuck you guys."

Solas chuckles and Dorian laughs.

"Why do you want me to marry him for that, _Amicus_?" Dorian asks, sipping his wine again.

"I just love him to pieces, and I love you to pieces," I say. "Seems like you'd work well together. He's an assassin and compliments your magey fighting style. You're both casual but open to commitment with the right person…just seems to fit."

"How do you know I'm open to anything?" he asks, giving me a look. "Extrapolations are only so accurate."

"I romanced you once," I respond, flicking out a new page to write on.

I can feel Solas tensing up and his soul flares in surprise. "You intend to tell him now?"

"What are you two talking about?" Dorian glances between us with suspicion. "What do you mean you _romanced_ me?"

"Oh, when I was a man in the game," I say brightly, smiling at him.

Solas sighs and puts a hand over his face. "Why _now_?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about?" Dorian says with a questioning uptick.

"I'm not from Thedas," I say in all seriousness. "You know Red Thedas? I'm from another world, like that was another world, but my world isn't Thedas."

Dorian stares at me for a long moment, "I half-expected you to say you were a spirit from the Fade, like Cole." He kinda sounds like he's choking.

"Put down the wine, Dorian, I think you're about to drop it," I advise him.

He settles the wineglass on the tiny round table in front of him, one of those big spool-looking things? "Yes, I suppose I am."

"It's okay if it freaks you out, Solas freaked out a little too," I gesture at my…fiance…oh my god. I haven't told anyone we're basically engaged, yet.

"Yes, I believe I shook in a similar way," Solas says and puts the book down on the table too. "Are you alright, Dorian?"

"I…should've expected it, I think," he says, shakily. "Nothing that good ever comes out of our world, does it?"

I frown, "don't badmouth yourself and our friends like that."

He pauses, "ah. Yes, I forgot myself. Apologies. So easy to wallow, you know."

"I'm from somewhere else, but I specifically did everything I did because I _love_ Thedas and the people in it," I say. "I loved you even before I loved Solas." I say with a glance aside at said elf. "As a friend, as a lover, as a friend again- the game didn't have much depth, but I knew you."

"Suppose that explains quite a few things," he says and then clears his throat. "So we were…in love?"

"We still are," I wrinkle my nose, "it's just not sexy now."

He laughs and bows in half over his lap, breathing between his knees. "Sexy!" he exclaims as he covers his face with his hands and laughs.

Sounds like the hysterical laughs I do sometimes. "I'm open to questions if you have them. For now, you can take time to think about it, if you want." I say and then turn back to my correspondence.

And they were right, why not both?

_Nix on the Alienage. Convert it into a marketplace and repurpose the mansions into sections if you can for as many different families as possible. The elves will probably prefer the close quarters of having many families in one place than suddenly all being apart for now. After a while, we'll get them all situated into their own houses…once we've ripped down a few more and made some that are of a more moderate size. So we can house more people._


	161. Solas POV

The Venatori in our custody has been treated to dinner, given new clothing- Inquisition Mage Armor, and settled into the Inquisitor's tent.

He doesn't seem to know what to make of the situation, but he is holding himself together well.

"So, Crassius," Nik says with a smile. "How would you like to join the Inquisition?"

He blinks twice in surprise, "I would be amenable, Inquisitor…what would you have of me?"

"Anything you're good at. Smuggling, spying, all that jazz…but there's a catch," she grins brightly. "You have to be a full member of the Inquisition. No special treatment, no lofty holier-than-thou attitude or you'll get put through sensitivity training _again_ after the usual first time."

"Sensitivity training?" he asks with suspicion and discomfort.

"Elves, Dwarves, Qunari and other minorities teaching you how not to shove your foot in your mouth by insulting them," she says. Eyes half-lidded and smile precious. "I demand my people be equals in all things, conversations about prejudice are very important here."

He swallows, "I shall…do my best, my lady."

"That's all I ask!" she replies with a trill to her voice. "I'm going to coordinate you with Dorian of house Pavus and Felix of house Alexius. One with connections in the more…obscure circles of Tevinter, and one as acting head of a Noble house. They've both got people and connections. Oh, and you'll be watched," she adds with a smile. "By many different people you'll never see there. They're to make sure you don't steal from me. See, cause all my money goes somewhere and it'll be noticed if it's missing."

"Goes, somewhere…my lady?" he asks with confusion.

"My organization doesn't _profit_ so much as it makes _investments_. There's a pool of money for every eventuality and every circumstance. One for the people when their homes are damaged to fix them, one for taking care of my Orphans, one for paying the soldiers hazard pay when the job was particularly dangerous or difficult in some way."

He clears his throat, "I don't think it would be wise to steal from the most powerful woman in Thedas, my lady."

"It wasn't wise to steal from Coryphyfish, either," she says while raising her brows. "You are a man who craves risk, I think. I can provide you with the risks and rewards you need, but you have to have loyalty to me."

He bows his head, "I am sworn to your service, until such a time as you release me, my lady."

"That's good," she nods. "Now, go outside and the Scout waiting is your new handler. They have a whole contingent under them and my personal stamp of approval. You won't be able to bribe them or seduce them, so I'd just focus on actually doing your job." Her smile is full of teeth.

He clears his throat, "yes, my lady. Of course."

He considered it, before she dashed his hopes. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a scheming. But there is no greater schemer than the Inquisitor.

I still cannot believe she told Dorian. And apparently Varric, as well. She forgot to tell me that, she informed me, with sheepishness.

There is a certain order she is going in that I cannot comprehend. Dorian should have been first, all told. The way she spoke of 'romancing' him and how close they are…perhaps it depends on opportunity?

Servis leaves the room with a low bow to the Inquisitor and Vollis takes him in hand when he leaves the tent. He will be smuggling more of those crystals for us, as well as various other things, I think.

Nik sighs and slumps in her seat. "Did we talk about Josephine yet?"

I tilt my head at her, "Josephine?"

"If I tell her we're not planning to get married or have any kind of celebration, she'll break." she says.

I chuckle, "you could do as you like. I am not intending to dominate the situation."

"Where I'm from, marriage is…I don't like it. But…maybe we could have a reception," she says.

"Reception?" I ask.

"It's a small get-together where people come to meet the couple and congratulate them and even give them gifts and shit…" she flicks her wrist as if she could care less. "I could set a new trend in Orlais having a celebration of a soul bond, which worries me."

"If they are going to steal it, at least they will have greater understanding of what love is and is not," I reply. "And they will take what they like, regardless."

"Yeah…" she sighs. "Still. Feel like I should release handbooks on appropriation. Maybe I should."

"Tell me…what is the difference between what you do, and appropriation?" I ask curiously. "You have not explained that to me, what…that even is."

She blinks and snorts after a moment, "it's…the Dalish wearing Vallaslin for cultural reasons and then a bunch of humans start slapping facial tattoos on in some of the same styles to be trendy and cool without any of the cultural reasons behind them. It's…stealing things that are sacred without permission. I ask people in the cultures I interact with, what they're okay with."

"Atheneras thought you'd stolen our language," I recall.

She chuckles sadly, "yeah. It's a cultural treasure to them to speak it or know it, now. But I wanted more people to speak it because…destruction of the language was a big part of the Elvhen Genocide." She shrugs. "I don't speak it directly to her, anymore. Just around her, to other people, but I try to respect that she doesn't like it."

"You have been teaching Merrill," I say. "Why?"

"Well, I didn't want to bother you, and you'd probably have said no," she replies. "And I could, so why not. We're going with the official story that she learned from Islanil and Nanin- and she did, a lot of it. A lot faster than she did with me, I think they're just better at teaching in a different way than I am. I'm good with kids and introductory stuff for adults…not in-depth things…"

"To what purpose, I mean," I say. "If it were not for a specific purpose, you'd have opened a class in the children and adult schooling centers for Elvhen."

She chews her bottom lip, "that's going to be Merrill's purview. So that everyone is learning by the grace and allowance of an elf." Of course.


	162. Chapter 162

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to update extra today, so you get a triple, wheee!

We sent a couple dozen Drake berries ahead of us, the seeds and the meat of the fruits- the meat for eating and drinking and the seeds…well…

"Oh my god…" Dorian's picked up a lot of my idioms and things. He seems to particularly like that one. And he stares out over the field of newly-grown Drake berries in earth that is no longer barren sand...in awe.

"Shit…" Varric breathes. "It's…they made it…livable!"

"I thought they might," I say with a grin. "They sent back reports, everywhere it's being planted, it's sprouting up overnight. This place was damaged by the Blight, a long time ago, so I figured the plants could work."

There's an entire _field_ of Drake Berries growing around the keep we just claimed.

"How did they grow in sand?" Fenris paces back and forth, eyeing the plants with distrust.

"It's not magic, Fenris. It's…natural. Dragons were the source of this…fruit." I say. "Dragons are a naturally versatile animal, resistant to the Blight. I'm not sure how the fruits grew from them…but there are plenty of things that only grow over dead bodies and things like that, so it's possible it's just that a dead dragon or a few drops of its blood is necessary. Though they said they bled on a plant, didn't they? Or am I remembering wrong…" I mutter as I drift off inside my own head.

"What are you taking the Western Approach for?" Anders asks. "All this land you can use after the berries do their work…what's it going to be _for_?" I think he's excited.

"Skyhold and the Dales are for the Elves," I say. "The Approach is for the Mages. Of all kinds."

"And what of the Dwarves and Qunari?" Dorian asks with some humor.

"I intend to stabilize the Deep Roads and reclaim several areas of them, plus we need to make some kind of agreement with the Qunari to only give them the willing and have them send us the unwilling- at first." I tack on that last part when Solas _looks_ at me. "I fully intend to do something so the Qunari stop brainwashing people, but I have to…focus on that. And I can't, just this second. I know they don't abuse their people in any other way, so they're the least urgent. There are casteless in the deep roads and elves in Tevinter to worry about right now."

Solas sighs, "I suppose it would be too much to ask that you consider your work done before you are finished."

"You'd want me to?" I ask with some surprise.

"I would like you to do less of this…personally," he says. "But I suppose I can't ask that of you, either."

"You two argue like a married couple," Fenris sighs.

I don't even mean to, it just slips out, "just engaged, actually."

Solas dips his head and sighs loudly.

The others all whip around from where they're standing around us. "WHAT!?"

Dorian makes a wounded noise, "when were you going to _tell_ me?"

"Shit, I was gonna make an announcement later," I say with embarrassment. "It didn't happen that long ago, and it's not…it's just gonna be a reception to celebrate the bonding, not a wedding…"

"Still there is a party to be planned and so much to do!" he grabs his hair with one hand and shakes his head. "How am I going to do this? Josephine will want to invite nobles, you know."

"No fuckin' way," I put my foot down on _that_. "People who back the Inquisition will be sent a nice letter with the opportunity to send gifts and congratulations. The party's just for me and my people."

Dorian sighs, "and you both have such different tastes. He's austere, you're…more Tevinter than anything else, actually." He chuckles, "always wearing black if you can get away with it, with little splashes of color here and there."

"Just elegant," I say. "Black and gold with hints of red and green in the appropriate places, should be fine."

Solas is zoning out, I can see him- I pout at him until he notices and smirks at me. "I've no need of a party, _ma'sal_ , this is your-"

"My soul," Fenris says with a faraway look on his face. "Is that what that means? I can't…but I feel as though I can…"

Solas stares at him for a long moment, "our people can sometimes feel the rhythm of the language, if not…understand it immediately. I…"

"If you wanna learn some Elvhen, you could ask Merrill to speak it to you," I say with a grin and I think I'm about to cry, why am I about to cry? "I know you like languages."

He hums, "I do, indeed."

"He calls you 'my soul' in Elvhen?" Varric asks and sighs, "shit. The hobo's got more game than us smooth heartbreakers, Sparkler."

Dorian scoffs, "perhaps in his own secretive way…he manages to be…"

He's struggling with that. "You get to dress him for the reception so long as he doesn't object," I grin when Solas gives me an aggravated look. "What? He has to coordinate us!"

"You beautiful man, you." Dorian says gravely and grasps Solas's shoulder. "I am going to dress you in the most simply decadent thing I can find."

Solas sighs, "as long as it is _simply_ decadent, I have no complaints, _Falon._ "

And then he stiffens and looks at me, "do not say a word."

I'm grinning so wide, my face might crack, "I'd never dream of it, _vhenan'ara!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma'sal - my soul  
> Vhenan'ara -hearts' desire  
> Falon -my friend.


	163. Chapter 163

“You found a cure for the Taint,” Nathaniel says as we make our way to Hawke’s position.

“I found a _treatment_ for the Taint,” I correct him. “Don’t start putting me up on a pedestal now, not you guys, I couldn’t stand that.”

“You are less incompetent than I first assumed,” Loghain says gruffly.

I beam, “thank you!”

“Might get everyone’s heads out o’ their arses long enough to tell ‘em. But prob’ly not,” Oghren says. “Clarel prob’ly won’t listen till it’s too late.”

“That’s alright,” I shrug. “I’m not depending on her, anyway.”

“How will you turn the Wardens to your side without their leader?” Nathaniel asks.

“I’ll ask them,” I reply with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll present a logical argument. I’ll get some of them, right away-- most of them might want to stay and fight with Clarel, but I have a couple of wardens on my side to tell them about the false calling and back me up when I tell them about the treatment for the Taint…so that’ll be another chunk of them, convinced.”

“Your plans within plans within plans are…intricate and confusing,” Nathaniel says. “There are parts of this I do not even see, aren’t there?”

“Yup,” I pop the ‘p’ a little. “If you ask Solas, he might have figured out a lot of it by now.”

“You do not avail your fiance of your plans?” Loghain asks with a laugh.

“I like it when he figures them out,” I reply and glance behind me to where Dorian and Solas are bringing up the rear, arguing about something.

Fenris and Anders with them, amazingly not arguing. Fenris mostly looks bored and Anders is anticipating being with Hawke again, he’s kind of vibrating with energy.

He keeps glowing and Fenris keeps smacking him in the arm or something and telling him to knock it off.

( _There are few injustices to right in the Inquisition. Even if there were more, you’ve created a system to suss them out and fix them. Justice…Vengeance…whatever we are now, we’re at peace. It…my solution was to blow up a building and yours was_ …)

I had to give him a piece of unvarnished truth, then. That without the event in Kirkwall, it’s likely Mages on the whole would’ve been in a much worse boat.

The Rebels would’ve been hunted down and the Loyalists would’ve been cracked down on, possibly annulled all over the place. By making Mages the enemy, he forced most of them to run, which gave all mages a chance.

I still told him it was fucked up to blow the Chantry and not the Templar barracks or something, I mean…he could’ve just had some mages go in and massacre the Chantry if he felt it necessary-- but blowing up that giant-ass building in the city caused a lot of damage.

Fenris says his mansion is too badly damaged to live in at the moment. ( _A piece of Chantry fell on it_ ) he’d informed me, dryly.

Plus a bunch of people on the bottom, down in Lowtown and Darktown probably got crushed.

He’d just sighed and said something about how it was useless to blow up a building without anyone in it and that blowing it at night while they were asleep wouldn’t have been enough of a spectacle. Apparently he and Hawke have had all the discussions on what they’d do differently with hindsight in place.

“You’ve mentioned you’re taking the Approach for the mages,” Loghain segues. “To keep them out of Ferelden or to keep Ferelden away from them?”

“Everywhere is shit in this world, in my truest opinion,” I respond. “There are things to love about the cultures, the people-- but everyone’s either miserable or stagnant. My system eliminates the need for Nobility. The ancients, Merrill and the Dalish-- the mages too, they all think my system is the best way to go forward.”

Islanil and Nanin approve of everything I do, so long as Fen’Harel in the mark doesn’t show any kind of protest. They’ve seen me argue with him over shit, so when he doesn’t argue, they apparently take it to heart.

I don’t have it in me to tell them that he’s not the same as he was anymore. He’s told me…he’s different. I wouldn’t know. But he sees a difference. And Solas isn’t the same as Veil either. They’re so colossally different I can barely even connect the two in my head anymore.

Solas is a quiet guy, but he doesn’t really…do the whole mopey thing that Veil does. And likewise Solas isn’t quite as self-reflecting as Veil is.

I wish I could make them stop hating each other, themselves-- I mean. Solas hates Veil, Veil resents Solas for hating him. Ugh.

“We’re paving the way forward for a whole generation of people. Not just nonhumans and mages but humans from all different countries, too. They might begin to adapt parts of my system, if not all of it-- which will lead to a more balanced, harmonious Thedas. I mean, there’s still stuff I’ve gotta figure out and fix and iron out…and I’ll probably not realize I’ve done something wrong until one day people start protesting about it, but I’m confident the laws will be-”

“Yes, your system,” Loghain cuts over me. Probably tired of waiting for a chance to jump in. I tend to babble. A lot. “With no rulers?”

“Leaders, not rulers and not even really that. Managers, would be the word, I think,” I grin. “People who uphold the law who aren’t above it. People to manage funds, but never their own-- and multitudes of people fed and clothed and sheltered by society and only working to earn luxuries.”

“How do you know people will work if you give them everything they need to survive?” Nathaniel asks curiously.

“Because Lazy people don’t exist,” I shrug. “There are manipulative people who don’t like doing hard labor, but that’s not laziness, that’s just them getting around a job they really don’t like. My system would match people to the appropriate jobs. Laziness is a concept made up by people who wanted to vilify people with…differences from them for refusing to do work they thought themselves was perfectly acceptable. People are all different though.”

“And what if you can’t find their perfect occupation, what happens then?” Loghain asks with a raised brow.

I smile, “if my system fails a single person, then it’s a flawed system and needs to be reviewed. In the meantime, the person would be cared for. My inability to do my job, isn’t their fault, after all.”

And then we spot Hawke over the sand dune with the other Wardens and Anders is the first to reach him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This note is just for Guest-- I can't reply to you for some reason, it won't save the comment:
> 
> Thank you for that list!
> 
> Critique is very helpful!
> 
> In fact if you don't mind could you give me a couple more things that you feel are missing from the story so I can write them all down and remember them for the rewrite?
> 
> I love to debate I'm sorry if I come off defensive I just find that asking questions and positing counterarguments usually gets me better answers than just passively agreeing with people.
> 
> I really want each rewrite to be better than the last.
> 
> Sorry about the tilde thing too...i've been on Tumblr too long.
> 
> I want this story to have all the steps and stuff in it but I get so lost on where to inject it and how to do it without getting too angsty and sometimes people just want a smooth read, you know? It's hard to balance it all.


	164. Dorian POV

You know, I've never met a person who was the same while being different.

I've met people who pretended to be something they weren't. I've met others who were always who they were, no matter what-but this is different.

She changes the shape of her being, but not the substance.

When she laughs at a joke, it is open and free, but the way she laughs- differs. It doesn't always depend on the person she's talking to. Sometimes it also depends on what she's laughing at. Whether she chuckles, giggles, guffaws or tries to hold it in.

But it's always her, in it. You can see that, when you expect something and she does something different.

Just because she's smirking doesn't mean she's scheming or overconfident. Just because she giggles, it doesn't mean she's soft.

Ha, she would say ' _what's wrong with being soft?_ ' and give me a pouty look.

Well. As we walk into the old ruin, housing an enemy and many Gray Wardens within- she is as Nik as ever, as always. But also…someone else. Someone new. Some other new way for her to express herself in the exact right fashion.

Her hips swing as she swaggers into the ruins and I believe I catch a half-moment of surprise from Solas and then that look he gets on his face when he's trying to anticipate her. He does it so often it's almost his default expression now.

Intrigued, curious, worried, terrified, anticipatory- it shifts from each as he seems to consider best and worst scenarios but always his eyes remain the same. Locked on her or searching the ruins around us, regardless- they stay warm.

As much as Solas and I butt heads on occasion on a myriad of subjects- I do hope someday to meet a man who looks at _me_ like that.

Nik strides into the ruins, unafraid and prepared for anything, as always. "Okay, this isn't happening, help me out here." She mutters as we watch an altercation begin to take place.

No one's been attacked yet, but you can see a Warden attempting to escape from the others.

Her hand reaches out and a rift rips open above them, spitting out globules of…something to stick them to each other and render them incapable of movement. Brilliant!

And then she jerks her hand to the side and the two wardens and their glob, fly across the ruins to the far end, sticking to a wall hard enough to make a loud smacking noise, but not enough to actually hurt them, I believe.

She makes a sort of- snapping motion -with her wrist, and _boom_ the rift closes.

"Inquisitor!" a man with a horribly ill-groomed mustache and pompous white clothing…eugh. "Livius Erimond-"

"Of Vyrantium," she cuts him off. "Yes. I know. I also know, you're about to do something incredibly ill-advised and it's not going to work."

He scoffs as we cross the courtyard toward him, "are you going to fight _all_ of us, Inquisitor?" He lifts his hand, a red light glowing within it-

And then Nik raises hers, the green pulsing, "I already figured out this trick."

There is a loud…snapping noise- and the Wardens fall to the ground, shivering. Eyes no longer glowing that eerie red.

"What? No!" Erimond shouts and points his palm at her.

Nik's mark glows bright and hot, green and gold- when did the gold start? -and throws off whatever magic he tried to do.

"See, I told you," she says with a charmingly matter-of-fact, upbeat tone.

And then she clenches her fist and the red mark in his palm…seems to…suck his hand inside it and then explode? Eugh. Intriguing, but eugh. I wonder what that mark was supposed to do? Take control of Nik's mark? Destroy it?

Erimond screams and falls on his ass, shouting at the demons still in the courtyard to attack.

They obey. Just not in the way he intended.

The demons advance on him as he shrieks and pushes himself further into the ruin wall behind him- but then Nik is flashing away to stand in front of him, meeting the demon hoard before they can touch him.

A barrier springs up and she wraps it around the demons, her mark connected to it as she speaks softly to them. I can't hear her from back here, so I turn to Solas, "what is she doing?"

"She is helping," he responds tightly. "With the mark. Again."

"How else do you expect her to do these things, really?" I ask.

He inhales and cracks his neck, it's a sudden move and surprising. It's what she does when she's especially tired or stressed out. "I am aware that what she does is…good, practical…logical, even…am I not allowed to still hate it anyway?"

I hum and pat him between the shoulder blades, "once you two are…bonded, did you say? How are you going to handle this then?"

"A bond is…I would be able to feel her surety and confidence, rather than simply assuming it," he replies. "Perhaps it would be better. Perhaps it would be worse."

I sigh, "good luck with that then. How do you feel about lace and filigree?"

He gives me an unimpressed look, "no lace. Filigree…is fine."

"AGH!" a shout from Erimond as he is dragged around the barrier'd demons and thrown at us by our illustrious Inquisitor.

She huffs, "Tie him up and feed him magebane or something- don't let him get away. I've got shit to do here, take him to Leliana."

Leliana was supposed to come to the Western Approach first. In fact she stopped off in the Dales to recruit any Scouts that could be spared and also- I think she wanted to see the families reunited. She seems loathe to show her softer sides.

Well, this will be an opportunity for her to show her sharper side. Torture was made defunct with the Inquisitor's new interrogation techniques for the most part- but there are certain people it would work on. He looks like he'd be one of them.

"No! No you can't- don't touch me!" his magic fluctuates, as if about to detonate in a mind blast, I can feel it- but before I can put up a barrier or set down a dispel-

Solas has already encased him in his own barrier and the mind blast- well, the very unfashionable Tevinter smacks himself in the face with it. His eyes roll back in his head, he flops onto the ground and then we're moving to stop the bleeding in his hand that's been blown apart and bind him and- I believe it's Anders who shoves the magebane in his mouth.

Growling something about giving all mages a bad name and flashing blue until his lover can calm him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, Nik's already done this blood-magic-binding-snapping thing once before. Remember? The slaves? Now that she knows how it works, she can get faster to the snapping- and since Corypheus overlooks the smaller details and probably didn't even notice- I mean, it had to feel like they all just died, and they were buried under snow, so the assumption wouldn't be out of place. But see, he thought this would work, would weaken her, at least- that he had a means of control she couldn't touch, and he was wrong. So wrong.


	165. Chapter 165

"I am curious, why you didn't let them kill him," Solas's voice echoes from behind me.

Echoes because this barrier is still kind of all over the place. It keeps stuff out and all, keeps stuff in too- it's just hard to figure out all the other little stuff, like light refraction and sound…stuff. "Half of these demons are probably twisted spirits- they've already been hurt enough. I don't need to resolve more trauma before I can help them back to themselves…otherwise he'd be rage food right now." I mutter the last part.

A chuckle reverberates off the barrier and around me and ooohhhh that's interesting. "And what are we doing next?"

"Yes, please do tell," Dorian trills.

"Oh seer of the future," Varric adds.

Hawke and the Grey Wardens took the other wardens scattered around- including the two I stuck to a wall, and trooped off with Erimond between them after explaining the trick Corypheus was playing on them all. After waking up from a blood magic trance, a lot of them were loathe to go back to it.

And now I'm just sitting here, next to a handful of barrier'd demons, trying to help them remember what they used to be.

Solas is trying to keep me from ripping myself apart by reaching out and helping with the magic every once in a while, but I think I'm so used to doing this now, it's just…easy. My insides don't rip up barely at all. So he switched to just throwing a healing spell over me after a while for every few minutes I'm stuck here.

"Erimond will either give up the location of…where we're going, or my patrols will find it, or I'll just start taking us there." I shrug. "Then…stuff happens. Big stuff. Incredible stuff. Stuff that I'm going to need to take specific people with me to deal with."

"You are not leaving me behind," Solas says. It's not really a question, it's more of a declaration, but there's an uptick in there, as if he's wondering 'you weren't actually planning to go without me, right?' type of thing.

"I will do whatever I damn well please," I reply blithely. "If you can catch up to me at that point, that exact point you don't know about- we'll see about taking you with me."

He makes an aggravated noise, "why?"

Why leave me behind, why do this without me, why go at all, why not subvert it- I can hear so many questions that could apply there, clamoring for attention in my head.

"Well, to answer the most obvious question," I sigh in relief as two of the rage demons become something softer- something more like…Irritation or something- and then they're pulled into the mark- they'll get let back into the Fade when I go to bed tonight. "Because even when we're bonded, we won't be attached at the hip, right? You need independence as much as I do, don't you?"

I can see Dorian and Varric walking off, apparently sensing this is a 'couple conversation'- they've been doing that a lot lately.

"Independence is different," he says with a discontented tone of voice. "I want to be _with you_ ," he says.

And it sounds- off. So I turn my head and give him my full, undivided attention, and I see- and god, I almost drop the barrier.

He looks so lost and confused and his expression is so twisted up and his eyes are glossy and I want- I want to smack myself in the face.

"Can we talk about this- can we stay here for a while, while the others go do…while they prepare to leave? They can pick us up in the morning," I say, swallowing roughly.

He lifts his head and his brow furrows, "I suppose there is no reason we have to help, but why-"

"I want to talk about it, but- I'm kind of…occupied," I turn back to the barrier. "We can talk about it when I'm done and I can give you my undivided attention, like last time."

There's a sharp intake of air after a moment, when he realizes what I'm saying. "I will tell the others," and his voice is a little, breathy? Ragged? Kind of shaky?

I almost wonder if maybe he's nervous or maybe he's thinking- maybe he doesn't want to, but he turns on his heel to go find Varric and Dorian before I can offer to retract that…offer. So. Maybe just…I dunno, anticipation?

He seemed so happy after the first time, the next morning and now he knows- so I can take him through the whole process and keep him down for hours if I so please…because he said he wanted it, right? And we'll go…through everything, again. Go through limitations and things he doesn't like and I'll know where all the edges are and…

I can still remember the way he relaxed against me, the way he'd said 'tighter' in such a quiet voice, and I'd never have known or thought- I mean…I always kind of figured he was the dominant type.

Even that thing he says in the game about Indomitable Focus…and he has yet to see it dominated? He said he imagined the sight might be…fascinating, wasn't it? But dominating focus is different from dominating a person. Dominating focus is-oh.

He wasn't talking about dominance at all, really. Dominating someone's focus is being…like, their whole world. It's being the focal point they're fixed on- and being the thing that draws their focus away from the things they try to be focused on.

Oh…that explains a lot about him, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you requiring warning, the next two or so chapters will involve nonsexual bdsm that might also verge into sexual territory, slightly. If there's anything sexual in the individual chapters, I'll put a warning at the top, okay?


	166. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updating for anyone who might be worrying about anything tonight and might need a distraction. Double, just for you.

I feel light, as I wait for her to join me.

She insisted I set up the tent and wait, against the wall- in a corner. That making the smallest possible target of ourselves was best…

She is correct. But I find myself reckless with the fact that… I don't care.

It has been…two…and a half? I believe? Two and a half weeks, since last we spent time alone in this way. Since the first time she showed me…this new thing that I am…simultaneously frightened and excited to explore.

I have never been so at peace as I was when she lie with me in the tent, just after the baths, and soothed me to sleep with soft touches and languid kisses. And for a day afterwards, I experienced…a feeling of security I have never had before.

I want that again.

"Hey…" she pauses as she walks into the tent, blinking at me, sitting on the edge of the cot I've set up against the wall. "Are you okay?" her brows furrow.

"I don't know," I reply and swallow. "I've never felt like this before."

She asks, "you never…played around with this kind of stuff before?" very carefully.

I inhale slowly and deeply, "the only activities I ever engaged in, with a partner, like this…were not like this," I say.

Her expression goes bland and her eyes light with something I cannot describe. "That story…about Andruil. That wasn't…true, was it?"

I stare at her for a moment before realizing, no she is not referring to- "the story of tying me to a tree, is not."

"What about the _other_ part?" she asks in a fearful whisper.

My fingertips drum along my knee nervously, "I told you…they attempted a myriad of ways to break me."

Her form shivers and her lips quiver, " _Solas_."

I sigh, "it is in the past. I'd rather not focus on that at the moment."

She almost seems to swallow her tongue, attempting to do as I ask. "I just…I'm _not_ saving her." She says, looking me in the eye, "any others I should know to just kill outright when we get to that fucking mirror?"

"You are angry," that is a surprise. My stomach drops and my chest clenches.

"Of course I'm angry," she breathes and presses her fingertips into her forehead, rubbing. "Why were you going to let them out and try to help them, if they did that kind of thing to you? If they allowed it to happen, even?"

My lips part and I…have no answer that would satisfy her.

It always seemed so simple before. They became…something like family to me, so I forgot. I…forgave. And to my mind, locking them away forever in a place, trapped with the Void's madness- it seemed more horrible than anything they had done to me. So much more horrible.

But what does she mean, not saving _her_? She is long gone now.

"We're not talking about this right now, but we're going to, and I need you to actually think about it, can you do that? Examine your thoughts, don't just…like…it's just supposed to be the right answer, so that's the one you go with. I don't care how wrong it feels, if it's true, I need to know that feeling you have and those thoughts…" she trails off and rubs her face with her hands. "We were supposed to be talking about- you don't like being apart from me when shit's going down. Right?"

"I don't want you to be angry with me," I am surprised to find myself…blurting out.

Her mouth opens and her eyes close and she shakes her head, sighing sharply. "I'm not angry with _you,_ " she says.

"I…" I don't understand.

"Stand up," her tone becomes steely and abrupt and I am on my feet before I realize the desire to move. "Stay there," she says and walks around to pull the cot away from the wall, moving it away from me.

Then she turns back to me and steps in close, hands on my chest and pressing me into the wall behind me. She is shorter than me, but not by…a large margin. It is enough that I must look down a bit to look into her eyes while we are standing- and our foreheads touch and she stares into my eyes.

It is an incredibly intense, searching look.

"Sit," she says, softly.

I find myself on the floor before I realize, again, that I even wanted to move.

She blinks down at me with wide eyes, "did you hurt yourself?"

"No," what is wrong with me? "I don't know…what's wrong with me."

She sighs and kneels before me, "sit back with your palms on the ground, and press your spine to the wall behind you." Her eyes are softer than they were before, but the commanding tone has not left her voice.

This time, I move a bit more slowly, doing as she asks and feeling the rapidly-cooling press of the ruin wall behind me, on the other side of the tent.

She kneels down, before me, chewing her lip, "now we're going to discuss hard limits, soft limits and things you think you'd like to try, then we're going to talk about why you're always panicking when you're away from me in a fight, okay?"

I swallow and my lips part, but I cannot find the words to speak. So I simply nod once.

"First of all, have you ever liked pain?" she asks with a furrowed brow. "I'm not a sadist, so I don't think I could help you with that."

I shake my head.

"Talk to me, Solas," she says.

I clear my throat, "I have never found pain to be a pleasurable experience."

"Biting and scratching?" she asks.

And that brings to mind images that are…distracting. "I…yes."

"Okay, what about blindfolds?" she asks, leaning closer to me. "And restraints?"

"I…don't know about blindfolds," I respond. "I…am uneasy, with restraints." I don't like certain kinds of cloth, I…cannot fathom having rope chafing my wrists…or anything similar.

She nods, "okay. And what are your preferences for where it will end?"

"I don't understand?" I say.

She purses her lips, "you remember how you felt after the baths? You can have that or the usual peak people experience during sex. Which would you prefer? And would you like me to try for both, or not?"

She asks as though it isn't a difficult question, as if I should have a clear favorite. Should I? "I wouldn't know," I say.

Her lips purse and she chews the inside of her cheek, "do you want to leave that up to me?"

There's a rush of relief with that, "yes."

"Okay, so now…you need to tell me to stop when I do something you don't like, or that's too intense and usually people have safewords. But ah…" she sighs. "I don't like the idea of rape play or anything like that-"

I don't know exactly what that is, but it makes my stomach clench in anxiety, "nor do I, I think."

She nods, "so when you want me to stop, say 'stop'. You can say it in Elvhen or Common and either way, I'll stop. If you say 'don't stop' or any other variation, I'll pause to get consent before going on. Do you understand?"

I nod, "I understand."

"Alright, good," she says. "Close your eyes, and keep them closed until I tell you to open them, and don't move from that position unless I've told you to."

My eyes fall shut and I lean back against the wall behind me. The dark of night is encroaching, we are in an enclosed space and I have not lit any of the lanterns around or inside the tent.

It is pitch black underneath my eyelids, no light bleeding through.

The Approach is mostly silent.

I can hear the swish of the sand tossed about by the wind- the roar of it as it batters something nearby. The sound of what I assume are small animals coming out of their holes to forage for the night…

The cold firmness of the wall behind me and the same below me- the slight texture of a few grains of sand caught here and there- is what I can feel. The air dropping temperature.

The scent of the ruins is…dusty, sandy and old. The scent of a building that has been around much longer than it seems.

And then…there is her.

I cannot see her, but I can imagine her face. Her expression of intense scrutiny, her pose- sitting up on her haunches to watch me.

Her scent has changed recently, sweeter and sharper- I've noticed she's taken to sucking on honey and caramel hard candies at every opportunity, and it's beginning to influence…everything about the way she smells, tastes...

I can still remember catching her, just as she was reaching for another candy in the pouch on her hip, and how sweet she was when I kissed her.

Other than that, she smells of her bath salts and tea. The aromatic, fruity kind she's been ordering in bulk to replace the bland, tasteless type we'd been drinking before. I know she intends to sell Drake Berry tea soon, to the Nobles.

And then she intends to give it away to the rest free, I suppose simply to tweak their noses- and also to make a point about something, though I can't put my finger on what it is at the moment.

I can hear her breathing, the steady rhythm of it calming. Her heartbeat is a different matter altogether, seeming to beat regularly until I lick my lips and shift a bit to get more comfortable. It almost seems to stutter.

And because she has said nothing about my legs…

I pull one up close to my body. Foot planted on the floor, knee bent, thigh pressed up against my chest and stomach. I have seen her stare at me in this pose before.

She breathes much more slowly than before, now. Her heart betraying her with another quick stutter, then subsiding into calm again. "Legs. Out straight. Don't move them unless I tell you to."

My leg extends again, and I do as she says, sighing and settling a bit more into the wall behind me.

This feels…good. Settling. Grounding…as if the whole world is dropping away...


	167. Chapter 167

I move closer to him, between his legs- and he shifts them further apart to accommodate me.

I didn't even have to tell him to do that. "…good…" I drawl a little, reaching up to trace a fingertip over his brow. "Press your head back against the wall, too."

His head lifts from its slightly-bowed position and he sighs slightly.

My fingertip moves from his brow, around the curve of his eye socket, and then up to the point between his brows…down the slope of his nose…

I trace the features of his face, one by one- his jaw, his chin, his cheekbones…I'll probably be better able to draw his portrait after this, I'm so thorough with it.

And he relaxes, incrementally, the longer it goes on.

"Take off your tunic," I say and reach forward to slip the jawbone over his head before he can move.

He moves slower now, more certain and less…well, before he seemed almost frantic to comply. He removes the tunic and slowly folds it- with his eyes closed!

"You are such a nerd," I mutter with some amusement.

His lips tip up at one edge and then his head tilts as he puts the tunic down, off to the side and slouches back against the wall, hissing slightly at what I'm sure is a hell of a chill and leaves his hands nonchalantly in his lap. "What does that mean?" he asks.

Innocent as you please.

I cock a brow, "hands."

His hands jump back into position, but he's still slouching.

My mouth bends in a curve, "sit how I first instructed you, brat."

His whole body shudders- but it's a quick thing that's gone almost as fast as I saw it. Then he's sitting up straight against the wall behind him again, in position.

Testing boundaries is good, he's comfortable enough to poke me.

Then I sigh as I wonder how I'm going to explain this, "you know how Elves are called names, and Dwarves and Qunari, too?"

He tilts his head and hums affirmatively. His lashes flutter against his cheeks like he was tempted to open them, but they stay closed.

"Where I'm from, there's all different kinds of names for people to insult each other with, and a lot of them have been reclaimed. To take away their power, the oppressed group began using it to mean positive things instead and the oppressors didn't like it, but couldn't actually do anything about it." I grin to myself a little at that. "So when they called people like me 'queer' or 'crazy', it was supposed to hurt, and it did…until I was old enough to realize I could take them back."

"And the words you use for me?" he asks.

"Geeks and Nerds have degrees of difference between them. One is not very social and tends to self-isolate and this was seen as strange and different and so it was mocked. The other was just seen as smart, and therefore needed to be mocked to bridge the gap between people who didn't feel as smart and assumed they must think themselves above them," I say, reaching out to cup his cheek with my hand and slowly pull it away. Palm and fingertips dragging against his cheek and jaw- and then his lips when he turned his head to kiss my fingertips.

"Stay still," I breathe and he goes back into position, stilling himself. "Brat," I chuckle and lean in to kiss his temple.

He makes a small noise, "so what…does the positive version mean?"

"Smart-ass, mostly," I reply. "It's a fond term for us to use for our friends now. For when they're being…scholarly, I guess would be the term. It's no longer about making someone feel bad for showing off their knowledge, just to acknowledge when they're doing something the other person doesn't understand or comprehend- like telling someone 'hey that sounded incredibly complex, I'm impressed with your hard work' though most people wouldn't put so much thought into it. It can also just be used as a name to call a friend, just…all the time. With no meaning. One of those little jibes that means nothing. Like how I call people 'asshole' affectionately."

He hums in acknowledgment.

"Stay still," I tell him, moving closer and straddling his lap on the floor. His legs are spread just enough that I can find a good position, resting on them and my own next to his- creating a sort of brace that keeps my backside off the floor.

I never really understood people who took one look at someone else and said something about their body was attractive, sexually. I mean, when people talked about Solas's thighs, I didn't get it. I didn't get it when they talked about his ass, either.

He's beautiful, of course he is. But…I never took bits and pieces of him and regarded them as sexually pleasing or…

I don't know how people do that, how thighs look different or different asses can be more or less nice to look at. I just don't get it. If I love someone, everything about them suddenly becomes endearing, even their really irritating traits will irritate me while smiling at them.

There are features that fascinate me, but that's more about what they say about him and how he feels. His eyes, the curve of his waist, his straight back and squared shoulders...

My fingertips drift over his collarbones first, because- I always want to. I did in the baths, before- but I couldn't really enjoy it to its fullest extent- being able to touch him. To do what I want for as long as I want.

He breathes in deep and out slow, shivering when my nails trace around the jutting bones and up his throat to his ear.

"Good to touch here?" I ask, hesitating to move up. I know there have to be some Elves who don't like their ears touched in these situations.

He hums an affirmative and leans fractionally into my touch.

I trace the shape of it, to the sound of his sighs and the feel of his shivers. And then I lean in with my other hand on his chest and flick the outside edge with my tongue before blowing on it.

He makes a slightly strangled noise and shudders harder- but doesn't move.

"Talk to me," I breathe against his ear.

His body twitches and his arms jerk, almost like he'd barely aborted a movement. "About what?" he asks dreamily.

"Why are you so afraid to leave me alone?" I ask.

"You are never truly alone," he says softly.

I frown and pull back to look at his face. His expression is mostly…relaxed. But there's a slight cant to his brows… "Then why do you get so upset when I go off to…"

Something occurs to me then, and he answers before I can finish my thought.

"Because… _I_ am always alone," he says with a melancholic tone. "It's…better, when you are there. Not as…noticeable."

I feel like a complete jackass.


	168. Solas POV

I perhaps shouldn't have told her that.

"Why didn't you just _tell me_ that?" she asks. "If I knew, I might not've left you behind as much."

"I…" I fall silent and sigh.

"Solas?" her breath on my face, she is leaning in close.

"I didn't know," I admit with some chagrin. "I knew I did not like having you…elsewhere. I thought…I assumed that I knew why. It appears I did not."

"Hey…" she breathes against my ear and presses close, hands on my shoulders and chest pressed tight against mine. "It's okay. Sometimes I don't know why I do things until someone asks. People don't normally…analyze themselves to death, like I do."

A surprised huff of amusement escapes me, "perhaps they should."

"I wouldn't recommend it, it's exhausting," she states flippantly. "Now I'm going to take off what I'm wearing."

My breath catches and my ears perk, listening to the way she moves as she pulls back. I can hear her clothing moving and then falling to the floor. "Why do you warn me?" I ask, breathless and expectant.

"One, because if you didn't want me to, you should have the option to ask me not to," she replies. "Two, because anticipation makes everything ten times better…"

I chuckle and inhale sharply when she leans close once again, skin pressed against mine now. "Is there a three?" I ask, arms trembling with the need to move and…touch.

"Three, your eyes are closed and if you suddenly moved the wrong way while I was moving, you might smack your head against my elbow or something," she says.

I laugh in earnest at that. Quieting when her lips drift up over the outer edge of my ear. Her tongue flicks the very tip and her teeth graze as I strangle a groan before it can leave me.

"Don't do that," she says softly and begins stroking fingertips over my skin. "There's no one else here, you can make noise."

My shoulders, my throat-

I jerk back into the wall when she touches there and she pulls away, completely. "Good?"

"I…yes. I…not there, please," I ask. I can feel my skin flushing from the top of my head down to my chest.

"Mouth?" she asks.

I cannot understand what she asks for a moment, "on my- yes. That…that is fine."

She presses her hands to my chest, tentative and careful, leaning in to press kisses over my shoulder and up the side of my throat. The warmth of her open-mouthed kisses eclipses the embarrassed flush. I feel incredibly hot at the moment. That could be the heating runes in the tent, as well.

She moves to the other side when she reaches the spot just below my ear, going down that side until she reaches my shoulder and then lightly biting down.

I make a noise in the back of my throat that I was not aware I was capable of making. It is far too needy and altogether a growl.

She pauses and bites down a bit harder.

I sigh deeply, "yes…" with a rasp.

Her lips and tongue caress the spot after her teeth release my skin, and then she moves over, just a bit…and bites down again.

I press my head into the wall behind me, beginning to breathe a bit heavier- finding it difficult to think. It feels as if I am being held down, just a bit…just enough to feel secure- not enough to feel trapped.

I am mostly holding _myself_ down, in fact…

She repeats the process twice more on that shoulder, and then moves to the other, grasping my skin tightly in her teeth and soothing the sting with flicks of her tongue and a caress of her lips. By the time she has finished with the other shoulder, I am feeling pleasantly detached from the world. As if I am floating within myself.

It is such a relieving and familiar feeling- something I have missed for…it isn't exactly the same, but it is close enough to-

"Hey, hey, talk to me," her hands brush over my face, the sensation especially sharp in this state- and the moisture I can feel her brushing away, surprises me. "Solas, _ma'lath_?"

I chuckle and it comes out a bit brokenly, "that is not…right, _ma'sal_."

"It's an english endearment, and it flows easier than _emma lath_ for me. You're used to my weird language-isms, aren't you?" she asks with amusement.

"Not in _Elvhen_ yet, I suppose." The fact that she is comfortable enough to play with the language is…good. She is fluent. No more lessons or corrections- and that makes me…incredibly melancholy for some reason.

"Hey, you want to stop?" she asks seriously.

"No," I never want it to stop. Please, don't stop. "I want…to lie down, and…hold you."

"We can do that," she replies. "I'm gonna get up, now. Stay still."

She moves away and I nearly cry out at the loss of her skin.

She grasps one of my hands and tugs me up by it, until I am standing on my feet. "C'mere."

She removes the last of my clothes and wraps her arms around me, hiding her face in my throat as I press my hands into her back to hold her tightly to me. "I don't know…why I am…" a shiver and I bury my face in her hair.

Her skin is there, again- and I do not feel so open and exposed with her there, pressed against me.

"It's okay, that's good, that's the point of doing all this," she murmurs and kisses my neck. "Just relax and let whatever it is you're feeling, go through to its natural conclusion."

She pulls me to the cot and lies with me as the tears cause my breathing to become stuttering and halting. Fingers caressing and squeezing, pressing into my skin- mouth traveling over my chest and stomach with softness that only seems to make it all…more difficult to hold back.

"It's okay," she whispers.

I can't imagine how it could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys. It's hard to do anything right now and I'm mostly focusing on updating ReRe until I get my internet set up because if I worry about only one story, it's easier to manage.
> 
> I'm gonna try to update this one more often than I have been, its just difficult right now. I thank all of you for your patience and support.
> 
> My readers are the best, love you guys.


	169. Chapter 169

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank Failisse, she reminded me to finish this.
> 
> Also nanowrimo which I am procrastinating on by updating.
> 
> Suggestive things in this chapter but no sex. For those of you who need warnings.
> 
> After this chapter its back to the main story.

I expected to wake up to the feeling of him lying half on top of me, as he usually does when we get curled up in the night. Arm around me, one of his legs tangled with mine, face buried in my throat or hair. That’s how it usually goes.

So I’m a little surprised at how I wake up instead.

Feeling really incredibly good, with a knee pressed between my legs. And a pair of hands toying with my breasts, not to mention that mouth on my neck.

I don’t wake up all at once, and at first I think I’m dreaming.

Fingertips dance lightly over my skin as wet heat flicks my throat and phantom teeth scrape-- right over my pulse.

I feel myself make a noise, but don’t hear it. I mean, it’s literally so low and quiet I just feel it as a reverberation in my body.

The responding noise, low in the back of his throat, is what wakes me up the rest of the way.

My eyes flutter open slowly, sluggishly-- I am so pleasantly weighed down by sleepy relaxation and arousal that I don’t even _want_ to move my limbs. And even if I did _want_ , I’m not sure I _could_ without some extreme application of willpower.

“Mmmh…” I curl one of my legs up around his hip with said willpower and sigh heavily. “Good morning."

  
A wordless noise, more like a growl, is his answer.

I blink and lift my head, “Solas?”

He lifts his head from my shoulder with a wet sounding smack and I shiver at the feeling of his lips and teeth leaving marks on my skin as he does so. He looks at me with half-lidded eyes and curls one of his hands in my hair, tugging lightly. “Mmm?”

“Can you verbalize something for me, so I know you’re not sleep-touching me?” I ask with a lazy quirk of my eyebrow.

He snorts a laugh at that, head dipping, eyes closing. God, he’s beautiful. “I am awake,” he says, lifting his head to look at me.

And…it’s just like before. His eyes are brighter than usual, his expression relaxed, happy, playful even-- he looks young, instead of like an Ancient stuck behind a young face.

“I wasn’t,” I reply with a little bit of sleep-heavy in my voice.

He hums, “I seem to recall a passage in one of your books wherein the heroine wakes up like this. It was creased.”

I give him a look.

He quirks a brow at me, “I felt it went a step too far to wake you up _exactly_ that way.”

I flush and huff, sitting up and forcing him to sit with me.

But then I have the dilemma of an extremely Naked man straddling my lap and looking at me with amusement and desire in his eyes and I…dunno where to go with that.

We did _my_ thing last night. That’s…I have no experience doing anything…sexual. And I know that’s what he’s trying to…trigger, here.

Truthfully I have no experience domming either, besides with him-- but at least with that, it’s fairly straightforward and more about personal connection than bodily reactions…

“I kind of think if you want anything to happen, you’re gonna have to…start,” I tell him.

There’s a moment where he stills in surprise and he cocks his head at me, looking curious. “Why?”

“I’m less confident about…this side of things than I am the other side,” I reply. I can feel myself getting redder.

His eyes narrow and then dart over my face and then the air, like he’s trying to…figure something out?

“ _Oh_ ,” he breathes with a dawning expression, and then he blinks and I’m flat on my back again.

I lose part of my brain functions when he kisses me and buries one hand in my hair while looping the other around my thigh, pulling it up to curl around his hip, like it was before. Not at the actions themselves, but the way it feels when he tugs my hair-- sparks going off in my scalp and how warm his other hand is on my thigh-- like fire conjured under his skin-

And the fact that our souls are glancing against each other again. That’s always distracting. And his _tongue_ , god, his tongue.

The glancing gets longer and presses closer, his hand on my thigh drifting down to cup my hip and pull me against him, tightly. The heat of his body starts to envelop me, pressed against each other from hip to chest.

I feel weighed down in a pleasant way, not like earlier-- this is different, new-- exciting.

One of my hands is curled around the nape of his neck before I realize I even wanted to move it. Nails digging into his flesh when his hips roll against mine. Slowly, agonizingly slowly.

I make an agonized noise.

He makes that same sound from before, that growl-y noise that rumbles in his chest-- and I wonder for a moment if this is some kind of nonverbal communication and if we’re saying more than just wordless moans to each other-

But then his hand moves around, cupping my backside and squeezing as he grinds downward, his teeth simultaneously biting down on my bottom lip and I can’t really theorize on the cultural differences between Human and Elven nonverbal cues anymore.

I make a small noise and writhe under him, fingernails biting deeper as my hand clenches around the back of his neck.

He pulls away only far enough to gasp for breath and stare into my eyes.

It’s a different look than he usually gets when I touch him. It’s intensely focused, but also indolent and _hungry._ I don’t know why I find this particular cant to his eyebrows so attractive, but I do-- why am I so _weird_?

All the things I could fixate on, and I choose his _eyebrows_ and the way they’re angled. The way it makes his eyes look. It’s more normal to notice his reddened face and kiss-flushed lips, isn’t it? And the way his eyes themselves burn at me?

I don’t know what he sees in my face, but he looks suddenly uncertain of himself, and that worries me. “What’s wrong?”

“We could bond, I lied,” he says raggedly.

I blink at that, “okay…why?” I’m not so alarmed at ‘lied’, people lie for important reasons. And he didn’t really need to…which means this isn’t about _me._

“You are not upset,” he says, tone and expression perplexed and kind of afraid.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, ever. I’d rather you didn’t lie either, but I know…what it’s like to lie because…” I pause. “I know what it’s like to lie to protect yourself from something.”

His head dips and his forehead presses against my sternum. Probably not very comfortable.

I stroke the back of his neck and shoulders with my fingertips, “why did you lie?”

“I’m afraid,” he replies.

“Okay. Of what?” I ask.

“Many things,” he says. “Afraid to be connected to Veil and become who I was again, no matter how illogical the idea is. Afraid to let you into myself and…see who I really am, deep down inside. Afraid to let go of…everything I thought was important, before.”

“One part of that is that I won’t like what I see?” I ask, curling up to kiss the top of his head.

“Yes,” he answers simply.

“Solas. I’m constantly aware of all the ways I could kill everyone around me,” I say.

He goes still and I continue stroking his skin with my fingertips.

“I don’t vocalize it, but I have this…urge. This…feeling, like I should kill anyone who poses even the smallest threat to me and the people I consider closest to me. Which is usually anyone I don’t know the name of, have no information on-- haven’t really even _met_ properly. I imagine decapitating them, or ripping them apart with my bare hands. I don’t act on those feelings, or those images-- but I do have them. And that is something you didn’t know about me. Do you not love me anymore?” I finish.

He lifts his head and frowns at me, “that…can’t possibly be true.”

“Do I ever lie?” I deadpan.

His ears flick back and he looks sheepish, “I didn’t mean to imply-”

“You didn’t imply, you straight out called me a liar,” I correct him with a quirked eyebrow. “You need to lose this image you have of me-- that I’m a perfect, sweet angel who never wants to hurt anyone ever. Have you _seen_ what I do to rapists? And I _still_ feel like I should kill them instead. Slowly and painfully. And I have other thoughts, insulting thoughts-- about a lot of people, all the time. Sometimes even about people I love. They’re intrusive, I can’t stop them, and they aren’t really what I think-- but they’re there.”

Sighing and shrugging, I reach up and trace my fingernails over the skin of his neck and shoulders. Lightly. “Just…can we both agree that we’re both not perfect and-- I don’t know about you --but your imperfections are kind of the main reason I love you? Or I should say, the things you _perceive_ as imperfect.” I shrug, “perfection is an impossible standard, anything imperfect is just normal to me.”

“I…don’t believe I have ever said I was perfect,” he says.

“You act like you think you’re more perfect than anyone else,” I inform him. “Most of the time you’re pretty chill about other people, but then there are times when you’ll look down your nose at them…and it’s very irritating to be attracted to you when you’re like that.”

He laughs, “I cannot fathom why you are attracted to me at all. If that is…a regular issue.”

“You have the capacity for thoughtfulness and change,” I shrug. “I guess that’s just my thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nik zeroed in on the thing bothering Solas the LEAST, so this conversation isn't over-- but there's no more one-on-one time. Their night alone is over and its time to get going toward Adamant.


	170. Chapter 170

“You don’t wanna be part of the charge?” I ask, surprised. “I figured you’d be curious to see how this turns out.”

Dorian laughs, “yes, well…that rather important event of yours that’s happening…you said it would unnerve me.” He’s subdued now, “if it’s…something that I might want to forget after it happens, I’d rather not chance it.”

I nod, “you don’t have to give me a reason or anything, I was just surprised. You can always say no.”

“Yes, I know,” he replies with a small smile. “As for now, you are about to ride off into the sunset with your fiance and a vanguard of soldiers and Gray Wardens…so I would like to ask some questions before you have to leave.”

“About the future?” I ask cautiously.

He flicks his wrist, “oh no. I’ve…learned my lesson about messing about with time. What you know, you seem to have done good things with…I will leave it at that. I actually wanted to ask…why don’t you want to go home?”

“Because home is Thedas, now.” I laugh and shrug my shoulders, shifting as I buckle on my shoulder guards.

We’re in my tent-- our tent. Mine and Solas’s. He…doesn’t want to have separate spaces on the road anymore. Not like we really did, before…but he’d occasionally sleep elsewhere…and now he’s chosen to forego that option.

It’s not like I’m worried or nervous or anything…but I get the feeling his new behavior around me is significant. He’s…I can’t even describe it.

“Well yes…but…was it…so horrible?” he asks haltingly.

I sigh, “it was fine. An existence devoid of significant change is torture for me, though. I was powerless to help others, or even myself. I like it better here where I can do things.”

“You had a family, did you not?” he asks. “Do you…miss them?”

“Some of them,” I reply. “My grandmother, my little brothers…my cousins. But my mom, dad and everyone else can rot in hell.”

He blinks in surprise, “that seems…harsh. For family.”

“My father told me I was wrong for liking anything that didn’t have to do with his religion,” I say. “My mother ignored all my problems growing up and catered to her own ego and reputation above everything. They were bad parents.”

He makes an uneasy sound.

“The only reason we have complex feelings of love and hate for relatives is because we’re taught to,” I inform him. Turning away to fasten my belt, I glance at him in the mirror. “If they weren’t related to you, you’d tell them to kiss off for the things they do or did. But people put such emphasis on blood connections, it feels wrong. Well. Blood means nothing when it comes to family.” I look him in the eye in the mirror. “Family is what you and I and the rest of the inner circle are. People who come to each other with their problems and receive support. Who love each other and always give each other the benefit of the doubt.”

“That’s…” his gaze darts away, “a bit difficult to…”

“I know. But that’s by design,” I reply. “It keeps the power structure in place and allows for abuses. And when your kids grow up, they only know what was done to them. So it goes on.”

He looks a bit green.

“You won’t be like that,” two voices intone.

One is mine. The other is Cole’s.

We both look at him in surprise.

He’s supposed to be with Righteous.

“Right here,” his voice intones from my cot, next to Cole.

Dorian and I jolt a bit. He’s better at the disappearing thing than Cole. Possibly because he’s newer.

“Cole…” I say slowly and sternly.

“It is our choice,” he says. Prim and self-satisfied.

I purse my lips and huff, “you’re impossible.”

“We need to be with you,” Righteous informs me.

He looks…different.

It appears that Cole found him some fitting Inquisition armor. Probably got the Tailors to make him a suit special. It’s leather, mid-tone to dark browns with a hood attached at the back and short swords on his waist on either side.

And his long, flame colored hair has been braided in a long rope that’s coiled behind him in his hood.

“How many hearts did you stop on the way here?” I ask him.

He barks a loud, boisterous laugh, “a few.”

Dorian sighs, “he really _is_ too pretty. Why did you make him look like that?”

I blink, “I didn’t…mean to make him look like anything.”

“She didn’t, really,” he says with a cheeky grin, ears perking with amusement. “I was able to see what she correlated with righteous fury. In her opinion, dashing rebels are just the best-

  
“Oh, I hate you,” I say and pick up my pillow to throw at his face.

Cole leans out of the way when he tries to hide behind him and it hits him square in the nose. “Ack! I do not lie! You cannot be cross if I simply speak the truth.” He smirks toothily, “that is why you love him, after all, isn’t it?”

I narrow my eyes at him, “you’re too Human. You’ve always been too Human-- Elven. Uh…socially acceptable,” I correct myself a few times, stumbling over the proper terms for things. “Solas thinks you’re old or that you’ve been around before.”

“Hmm, no.” He grins. “You gave me the necessary tools to be what I am when you…‘pulled my parts solid’,” he says. “Anything about me you don’t like, you have only yourself to blame. I am your idea of a righteous defector. A rebel. Everything you want to be in your passion and your rage.”

I sigh, “I always knew I’d end up being obnoxious instead of dashing.”

An offended noise is his response.


	171. Chapter 171

"So, tell me a story," Varric says.

We're riding toward Adamant on horseback- he's riding a very small breed that is apparently used by surfacer dwarves quite often. Not as often as specially bred nugalopes, but still.

"A story?" I ask, leaning back into Solas's chest behind me and smiling when he drops a kiss to my cheek. "What kind of story?"

"Something from your…home," he says.

Ah. My world. I grin, "you sure you wanna open this can of worms?"

He tilts his head at me, "I'm ready if you are."

A chuckle in my ear and fingertips drawing lazy designs under the edge of my armor on my waist, near my hip. "I worry you may forget we are riding to battle at all," Solas informs me.

"Pfft," I flick my wrist. "Battle, no battle. Maybe it'll just end up being an afternoon tea."

Varric and Solas both laugh at that.

"Alright, come on, gimme somethin'," Varric prompts me.

I sigh and wrack my brains for something he'd like…

An epic tale of adventure, romance and…god, there's so many badly written novels I could probably tell him about- movies too…

"How about I tell you a story from my world…with my own corrections to how the story should've gone?" I ask.

He snorts, "are they that bad?"

"Usually," I reply. "Creativity is sacrificed for uniformity. Mainstream is…well. Let's just say publishers like going for a sure thing that's been tried before over original things that haven't."

"Sure, guaranteed profit," he nods. "Still…no patron systems?"

I chuckle, "we've got…it's sort of like begging for coin but different. You might get donations, you might not…and some people don't have access to that kind of thing and they're the ones who need it most…"

"You are very passionate about Art Patronage…" Solas says. "Is this another thing you felt unable to do in your…homeland?"

"I felt unable to Patron or be Patroned, either way, I wasn't going to get to do it," I shrug. "I was too poor to Patron and too ordinary to be Patroned."

"It's a strange world, where you're considered 'ordinary'," Varric says.

"Alright, uh…" I fumble for a story that can be immediately adapted, something I've thought about a lot… "Oh! I could always tell the story of the Little Mermaid. The original version was actually pretty good."

We pass a good chunk of our time discussing the entire story. Varric is full of questions like, 'why didn't she just swim up and say hi?' or 'why did she love the guy, anyway? His pretty face express the secrets of the universe as she dragged his limp form to a beach?'

It's incredibly entertaining, really.

And the way Solas strokes my skin, kisses my hair and nuzzles my throat from time to time is incredibly comforting and distracting.

I think Varric is trying incredibly hard not to notice and tease us over it. Which is odd…because I could swear Varric always teases everyone in a romantic relationship around him.

In fact I can't recall Varric ever teasing us over our relationship. Not except that first time when he was about to, and then…didn't.

"Hey Varric," we're in the middle of the story, but I can't wait to ask because then I might forget. "Why don't you ever tease us about our relationship?"

There's a profound silence from Varric and Solas just sighs at me.

"Would you rather I did?" he asks.

"It just seems like you tease everyone except me and Solas," I tilt my head and blink at him. "I just wondered…is there a reason?"

He hums, "I dunno. At first…I guess because Chuckles still looked at you like you were a student or a kid or something and I didn't wanna rub it in."

Solas's head lifts and I think he's glaring at Varric.

"What? You treated her like a toddler when she first showed up, it's just facts," Varric shrugs and grins. "Then, later…I guess because your relationship was just so…I dunno. Genuine? You wouldn't have cared what I said, you'd have said 'yeah' and rolled with it. You're completely un-embarrass-able."

I snort, "and it's no fun to tease someone who can't be teased?"

He nods, "now you've got it."

"We are approaching the last leg of our journey," Solas mentions. Weird segue… "Have your plans changed since we last discussed them?"

I shake my head and bite my lip when he presses his forehead against my temple and curls his arms around my waist a little tighter.

"See?" Varric interrupts the moment with a laugh. "That kinda thing where you're completely open about everything? That doesn't invite teasing."

I huff, "I get it."

"Inquisitor!" Cullen calls from the front-ish of the procession. We're a little bit further back.

I groan as Solas taps the horse into a canter so we can get up toward the front where I'm being summoned.

I have to ride with him if a wagon isn't available and we're already transporting so many soldiers and supplies in them, I didn't want anyone to give up space for me.

He has to keep a barrier around my arm, though, or the horse goes nuts. That sucks. I miss how much animals always seemed to love me before the mark.


	172. Chapter 172

"You know, something's been confusing me," Varric says as we walk up to the gates, between all the fighting. "About everyone adopting all your systems?"

"You're asking about that now?" I ask a little incredulously. Mostly amused. I still haven't found a lead on Bianca, but it could take a few more days to get a report. He seems more interested in my stuff than usual. Probably trying to distract himself.

I've noticed him pacing a lot more than usual, but…he always waves off concern or puts on a happy face. I think maybe that's just how he copes.

"When else am I supposed to?" he asks with a chuckle. "When you're not with Chuckles, you're with Sparkler or the Kid, and when you're not hangin' around them, you're just shooting the shit with the soldiers and the servants."

"You could shoot the shit _with_ us," I say with a smirk.

He huffs, "and cut in on everyone's time? Nah. They don't deserve that. But anyway…you fought really hard to let the Elves and the Mages keep their own ideas and cultural shit…but now they're adopting everything you've done? Why are you so okay with that?"

"Everything I've done?" I ask in surprise. "Oh. No!" I laugh. "They're adopting the systems, not the…everything else. And they're going to change it over time. It's just what everyone's used to for right now. I know for a fact that Islanil and Nanin intend to use more _Elvhen_ methods for governing the populace when they eventually build up their council or whatever they're gonna do." I flick my wrist. "It's just the best way to go forward right now. That doesn't mean they won't have their own way of doing things. Everything is just…incredibly hectic right now."

Maybe saying 'my systems' is a bit too self-congratulatory. I supplied ideas but the Servants, Soldiers and everyone else of every kind of denomination really built everything up. They found the ways they'd need to make things work and did it. So when I said they were adopting something 'mine' it was…well. I didn't really mean _mine_. I should probably check myself over that kind of thing more often…

He could've asked things other than that. Like…that was a bizarre thing for Varric to ask, especially right now. What is he building up to?

He hums and shrugs, "and…what's gonna happen to the surfacers after all this?"

Ah, that's what he was getting at. I didn't think that'd be a concern.

I blink, "I assumed they'd be better at figuring that out than I am."

He tilts his head and looks up at me, "how's that?"

"They've mostly had to become savvy to survive up here, right?" I ask. "They'd know what niches they can fill in the new…structures."

He laughs loudly, "you're setting us up as suppliers and distributors between your territories?"

"They're not my territories, anymore!" I say with a pout. "And I'm not going to push…I just opened up an opportunity."

"So you're really not pulling the strings anymore?" he asks, almost seeming shocked. "I figured the show was…just a show."

"No. I just wanted to control the…damage," I say slowly. "We were eventually going to have a real falling-out between us, the _Elvhen_ , the Dalish and…everyone else. I just wanted it to be like _this_ instead of how…it could've been."

Varric says, "what, you mean the Humans putting down an Elven rebellion before you could stop 'em?"

I hum uneasily in affirmation.

"Yeah I can see how this might've put that off a bit longer," Varric says. "Still going to happen though…you know that, right?"

I sigh and we stop before the gates of Adamant fortress where my men are readying to bust open the doors. "Yeah…that's why I've got other plans."

"Well, don't tell me," he says, chuckling. "Chuckles in on these plans?"

"He came up with a lot of them," I reply. Not untrue. I'm modifying them to fit my own personal…way. But they're still his. "It's going to…change a lot. People are going to be upset."

"People are always upset," he says, flippantly. "Oh, my five minutes are up."

I frown and turn to look at him just as a hand touches the middle of my back and I turn the other way to see Solas is back. Glaring at the front gates. "The next…plot point, yes?"

I sigh, "yeah."

And now comes the part he really isn't going to like.

"I need to go in there with just Hawke and Loghain…Nathaniel will probably end up getting caught in it. I need as few people as possible, please, stay here?" I ask.

He stares down at me with a furrowed brow for a long time as they knock at the gates with that giant-ass door knocker. What are those called again?

Solas sighs like the world just ran out of air. A little panicked, "and what am I to do while you are…risking everything?"

"I wanted you to lead the Justicars with Dahlia and Ren," I say with a tight press of my lips. "You're both a combat mage and sort of a healer, so you'd…be versatile in the field."

He nods sharply, lines in his face aging him in seconds. He looks like that ancient again. Damn, I hate doing that to him. "If that is where you need me, that is where I will go." His voice is so tight and caught in his throat.

I lean into him and cup his cheek in my hand, sinking into the kiss he gives me.

Just as the doors are bashed open.


	173. Solas POV

"We're needed-" Ren catches my arm.

I turn to him and I do not know what he sees in my eyes, but he releases my arm immediately.

"Solas, please," Dahlia is there in front of me when I turn to begin walking again. "She has Wardens and that spirit with her, she will be  _fine_. We need to take this corner of the keep or she'll come back to-"

It takes little effort to fade step through her. It takes  _some_  not to freeze her from the inside out while doing so.

And then I am stepping through everyone and everything around the keep, searching area after area- but no. Her Soul signature isn't here. Not there.

It suddenly disappeared, and I can only feel flickers. As if she is here, but not here.

"Cullen!" she was charging with the soldiers, further in. He should know what's going on, where she is.

He looks at me, pale and wide-eyed.

He knows.

"Where is she? What happened?" I think I'm near snarling, but I cannot tell. I am numb, I cannot feel my expressions.

"I'm not really sure," he seems to be in shock but I have no sympathy to spare at the moment. "They…they all fell. Then… a burst of light. And…they aren't in the rubble, they're…they're not dead. Or at least…" He goes quiet.

I turn to survey the battlefield, and I see the dust is still swirling about where a massive bridge collapsed.

Breathing deeply and closing my eyes, I reach out with my soul. Pushing outwards, all around me in a wide net of energy…

There are traces of her. She paused to connect to rifts and spirits, demons…here, here…

I begin to move with my eyes closed, and I can hear Cullen move to follow me. I think perhaps he has no idea what else to do.

"Are you, Solas?" A voice nearby.

I open my eyes and find myself atop the pile of rubble. I must have climbed it. I forgot the barrier around my feet and hands. I am bleeding in both places. I cannot find it in myself to care.

It is the Warden Commander, is it not? Her armor is sufficiently pompous. "What. Happened."

She flinches, "the…Herald. She…she gave me instructions. Before the Archdemon came. I was to collapse the bridge as soon as it reached them. She had a message for y-"

I am barely cognizant of the fact that she said 'message' but I do comprehend it. Which is why I am only slamming her against a wall instead of choking her to death or breaking her neck with my bare hands.

She coughs and grasps my wrist, pained expression taut and bleak. "She wanted…me to tell…you…"

I loosen my grip, "what?"

"Then…thenera…something?" she says. "Thenera? Theneras?"

" _Dream_?" she told me to-...

No…please. No.

I pull away from the Grey Warden and turn on my heel. "I need a spot to sleep, Commander."

"Sleep?" he asks, dazedly as he follows me.

"She used the Mark," I spit. "I will likely find her in the Fade."

"My men and I will guard you, Solas," he offers. "Wherever you need us."

I pause to look at him, then. Really look at him. The haziness has all but left his eyes. The Commander is a leader, but not of more than an army. He is not the person who decides what is best, and he knows it. Without Nik or Cassandra or even Josephine here to command  _him_ , he feels lost.

"I will find one of the rooms with the least structural damage. Have your men wait outside," I walk along the walls, using magic to seep into them and feel how sturdy they are.

Oddly enough, a room just off the main thoroughfare in the middle of the wall has been mostly untouched.

I hear the stomping of boots as I head inside and I feel relatively confident that the men sent to guard me will not move from their places.

Trusting others to do their jobs has become a habit with me, lately. I haven't the wherewithal to break the habit, not at this moment and likely not in the future. I can only hope that what she has done with the Inquisition's people will be enough.

The room is clearly meant to house troops, with many cots lined around the walls and a wash basin in the center of the room. I see they have left their personal effects in disarray. Why bother, when you are about to commit suicide by Darkspawn?

I will never understand the hubris and thoughtlessness of the Gray Wardens.

( _What did you expect them to do, Solas? Lie down and die because the thought of being tainted was grotesque to them? I'd down a vial of that fucking blood if it meant Thedas got to live._ )

I don't enjoy knowing this about her. It gives me incredibly dark thoughts and forces me to confront my feelings about them, which I also dislike.

Sighing, I sit and then lie back on one of the cots. Breathing deeply and pulling myself deep down into the Fade. It isn't difficult, with the Veil so thin here.

' _She is always doing this,_ ' I lament.

I cannot complain. I have always known her to be this way. Knowing  _why_  makes me angry. Not at her, but in general. At the world. Her world, ours.

The dark folds around me and the Veil parts.

Sitting up on the cot, I take in the Fade version of the area.

It is completely unrecognizable.

There should be a fortress around me, and instead- it is a wasteland.

Rocks, dead dreamers who have been trapped in fear and pain, even a few spirits who cannot escape the confines of the area, being slowly driven mad…

What is this?

" **There you are!** " a familiar voice booms.

I turn to find Excitement, drifting toward me. " **What is going on?** "

" **I came to take you to her,** " it says with a childlike enthusiasm.

" **Please do,** " I respond flatly.


	174. Dorian POV, Solas POV, Islanil POV

It isn't as though I expected any less from my father.

_I know my son and his arrogance will be his undoing. He needs to come home._

Being sent a missive from the new camps in the Dales, by way of Mother Giselle, no less…was surprising.

_Please try to persuade him to return to us._

At the time, I was a bit confused about why Nik wanted Giselle and I to connect so badly. But after speaking with the woman a few times, I found something…odd, happening.

The whispers surrounding me began to peter off. As if they had never existed. I asked Giselle, once I'd realized, and she told me that people simply had more important things to worry about. And that I'd proven myself to them.

I believed her at the time, but seeing this…perhaps she had more a hand in it than she let on. And perhaps Nik knew she would. How much of that future knowledge extends to personal things? I wonder if she knows the names of all my paramours…that is an unsettling thought.

Some of those men were simply dalliances that would make my father angry, after all.

_Messere Pavus,_

_I hope this message finds you in good health. I felt it was my duty to pass this on to you without commentary. With what we have discussed about your father, I decided not to weigh in. You are the only one who can decide if your father deserves your forgiveness._

_Giselle_

From the sound of everything he's written in it, he hasn't changed at all.

There is a desperate part of me that wants to believe it, of course. I want to believe the concern so badly it hurts.

"No!" I hear Cole shout from outside.

"Cole? What-" I move to leave the tent and pause at the entrance when I see the boy flat on his back on the ground, groaning. "Cole!"

And then I have a face full of Magebane to contend with as I fall back, coughing, inside my tent.

My limbs feel weak- it wasn't only Magebane. I can feel the gaping chasm where my magic should be, and I always hate it. The only times I've ever tasted this disgusting Lyrium-based poison were in my youth, as I trained to deal with it.

It's also some kind of…it's making me weaker than it should!

I can get back on my feet and heft my staff, but it's incredibly difficult. I have to lean on it and when the attackers enter my tent, appearing out of a haze of smoke they must have deployed to keep themselves from being seen-

Tevinter heraldry is sewn into their clothes.

Hunters.

Suppose it  _was_  too good to be true, then.

* * *

 

Solas POV

" **Why would she set this up if she didn't want me anywhere near whatever is happening?** " I ask as we come to an incline.

Excitement and I both drift somewhat toward the top. I climb, but my hands meet no stone and I rise regardless of footholds. Excitement does not have to put forth the pretense of climbing at all.

" **She didn't want you to be afraid but didn't want you to be in danger,** " it tells me. " **She said it was a compromise between what she wants and what you need.** "

Always with the compromise. She can never concede anything. Why couldn't she simply take me with her? She apparently disappeared with Hawke, Nathaniel, Loghain and Righteous Fury. What difference would one more person have made for whatever plans-

It is at the point I crest the incline that noise seems to boom around me.

I jolt and hide under the edge, the sounds disappearing as I do so. " **What…?** "

My ears ring with the sounds of explosion and metal meeting flesh.

" **We're in the Nightmare's domain proper now,** " it whispers feverishly. " **You're crossing the boundary to its demesne. It has a barrier up to contain things. It bleeds out here, but we're not in the full grip of it. If you look over the ridge, you'll be able to see and hear, but you won't get stuck.** "

And how exactly was she able to plan for this? We've been spending all our time in the Fade  _together_. She hasn't had time to-

She had time before we even got here, I suppose. She may have in fact been planning whatever this is since she was bestowed with the mark.

* * *

 

Islanil POV

"They think they can take the fortress for themselves," I observe as we watch the humans attempt to batter our defenses.

A thick magical barrier that is bolstered by our own power, as well as the much weaker mages within the walls. It has a deep reserve well of power behind it, and we are prepared with a company of mages set to pour their power into it, should the need arise.

The more they exhaust themselves and their resources against our defenses, the better.

"Ever since the Lady left, they have been watching us," Nanin intones.

He is perched upon a battlement, crouched like the great cats of  _Elvhenan_. He couldn't look any more anticipatory if he had a tail flicking about behind him.

We both came from opposite ends of the Empire. It was pure coincidence that we awoke together, alive…

Everyone else, dead. Deteriorated or murdered by marauders who took our bodies for enspelled corpses and…destroyed them.

"They will not be watching for long," I reply.

( _As soon as we leave, forces from Ferelden and maybe even Orlais are going to try and topple you. Call for aid if you need it, but otherwise…show them they've underestimated you._ )

The lady left us with siege weapons, forge supplies, everything we would need to fight. We have farms below in the valley beyond the cliffside where the few Justicars left from her service still train with us every morning and afternoon.

They themselves wait with varying degrees of anticipation and fear.

We have only begun teaching them to draw out and use their souls, but I reach out to each of them now, a billowing cloud of reddish-brown that connects to green and yellow and blue and purple alike.

Still that first reaction of embarrassment and drawing away, it cuts at the very heart of me. And then they press back and We. Are. Connected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooow. Lots of shit is happening all at once.
> 
> I wonder what Nik's gonna do about it?


	175. Yvanna POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could possibly need a trigger warning on it, so you guys who don't like violence, beware.

"Get into the house!" I shout at my children as the explosions go off in the distance.

It's too close, they can't have gotten past all the patrols, not without making a racket- it's- they're  _inside_!

The beacons! The distress signals, they aren't being lit!

I rush the children inside the house and call to my eldest, "Dimitri, lock the door behind me and do not open for anyone but me! Do you understand?"

"Where you going, mama?" my youngest asks me with watery eyes.

"I have to light the beacon, Belli." I smile at my youngest with teary eyes of my own. "I have to try, at least. You be good for your brothers."

"Momma," my second son looks so nervous as I walk to the door, following me. "We can help you."

"You could, I know you could," I turn and squeeze his shoulders. "You're such wonderful boys and you're going to stay here and protect your baby sister. If something happens and you have to leave the house, I expect you both to watch out for her and get her away from here."

I get a hug from all three of my children, tight and all too short- and then I throw the door open and close it behind me with a frantic energy coursing through me.

I have to get to the beacons, they still aren't lit!

The whole encampment is filled with villagers and ex slaves running to and fro, making preparations and building up defenses between houses. Because of the Spiral design of the makeshift streets- we're able to create pathways and run the attackers in any way we please- especially with those special walls the lady had us build and attach to each house that lock together if you fasten them right.

They're enchanted not to break and with the small amount of mages here, we should be able to recharge a few of them when they're low on energy.

"Ser Lysette!" I call out when I recognize one of the former Templars nearby.

She turns at my shout and jogs over to me, "Yvanna, you should be inside!"

Another explosion goes off, closer this time- it shakes the earth beneath my feet.

"We have to light the beacons!" I shout back- it's too loud to be heard without shouting.

"We've already contacted the Spymaster, someone else will see to-" the next explosion is so close I know we're about to have company in the clearing at the center of the village. It cuts Lysette off and sends both of us stumbling.

"Damn it!" one of the soldiers shouts. "Everyone ready yourselves! Civilians, get out of the area!"

It's too late to light the beacons.

I run back to the house and slam my fist on the door, "boys! Open the door!"

The door is unlocked and I throw it open, "get the food and your traveling cloaks, we have to leave, now!"

Dimitri grabs up the cloaks and begins fastening them around the younger children's shoulders as I grab their packs- the Inquisitor calls them go-bags. They have blankets and tents in them, as well as other basic provisions, in case we should need them.

I throw the few apples and cheese blocks we have in the house into the packs, wrapped in cheesecloth.

The boys each take one and I take the last, picking Belli up and stroking her back as she buries her face in my shoulder, crying.

It's all too much for her, and poor little Gerrik who is trying so hard to be brave as he clings to his older brother with tears running down his face.

I whip the blanket off the bed and throw it over Dimitri, just in case we should need it, and scoop a few items from my bedside table into pouches that sit on my waist. The lady supplies us with everything we could need.

I am grateful at this moment that I know how to use it all. Smoke grenades, Caltrops- it's time to go!

I usher my family out the door, and we are just in time to rush to the other side of the clearing before the attack makes it through.

The outer ring of homes and walls between them is bashed in and some horrible abominations storm through the gaps.

They look like people, but also not like people.

They look like normal Elves, Humans, Dwarves and Qunari in their body shapes- but they're all varying shades of bluish gray with black eyes and red Lyrium shards are sprouting from their faces, backs, arms and legs…

What  _are_  they?

"Rrrahhhhhgggghhhh!" the former Templars, Soldiers and Scouts launch an attack.

I usher my children through the first ring of homes, almost past the gates between two-

"Agh!" I scream and drop to my knees.

"Mama!" Belli is grasping at me with wide eyes, her face covered in blood. Why is she covered in-

Oh! It hurts.

"MA!" Dimitri rushes back to me, "ma, get up!"

He's panicked. I can't…I can't…

"Ma, please!" he screams.

He's going to die, we're all going to die-

"Take Belli," I gurgle as I slowly sag toward the ground, clawing at the earth as she shrieks and tugs at my arm. "Take…"

The world begins to spin around me, going dark around the edges and the pain- let the pain  _end_ , please, I beg you, Dear Maker!

"Belli, come!" my brave boy.

Picking up his sister even as she shrieks, "NO NO NO NO!"

"A…am…" I choke on the words. I can't speak, I can't say goodbye- I can't even tell my children I love them.

I stare after them as Dimitri runs with one child under each of his arms, both of them flailing and screaming and reaching back for me.

' _It…it is… okay, they will be…okay,_ ' I remind myself as my sight fades to a tiny pinprick. ' _They will be…wards…now…_ '

The Inquisitor will take my children and the Herald will guide my soul.


	176. Chapter 176

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Hawke is doing _beautifully_.

"Haha! If Anders could see me right now!" he dashes across the distance between himself and a rather large, hulking shadow, the armor of the spirit surrounding him mimicking that of a glowing, see-through robe over his actual robes. Shades of purple and blue glimmering and setting off his magical energy rather nicely.

He seems fond of setting traps to detonate with bolts of magic as he hop-skip-jumps away from the shadows in the flashiest manner possible...

Show off! Ha.

Nathaniel is doing…admirably.

"Agh! Damn it, they keep coming-" he says while hacking and slashing away at a seemingly-endless tide of shadows. Occasionally drawing further back and pulling the crossbow from his back to shoot a few in the face. But since it's not a repeater-- he has to keep reloading the thing while Loghain takes point, watching his back and being mostly silent.

Loghain is kind of like a pillar of strength at the moment. It's really pretty admirable. I could almost forget how much I kind of dislike him in favor of my fascination for his character.

' _Fury, quit projecting, I don't need to be pissed at my allies right now._ '

And as for Righteous and me…well.

"Damn, this feels good!" I shout as I plow through an entire mob of shadows, covered from head to toe in a shimmering orange-red aura as I execute every move I know in quick succession to keep my momentum flowing.

I never bring weapons with me, always resolving to use anything I can find around- I've never been partial to any one weapon.

But my left hand and arm…where the mark's influence is greatest- well. Let's just say the orange-red aura there is beefed up and a bit spiky and it's really effective to hit things with. I prefer bare-handed combat anyway.

Spin here, to land a kick, but then bend and push off the ground with a hand to flip and land another-- then crouch on your legs, one out far and the other holding your weight so you can spin again to trip your enemies when they're formed enough to have physical bodies. Then land a punch straight to their 'faces' with your marked hand...

Yeah that's pretty much how my entire day has been since we got here. How long has it been really? God, I usually can't keep time but this is ridiculous!

"How do we end the torrent of shadows?" Nathaniel shouts as they begin to regroup and we do the same.

Hawke and I stand on either side of our procession, Loghain and Nathaniel in the middle.

"I have to find a memory here," I reply. "But I can't see one."

We've already been winding through Nightmare-country for like forever, now…

"Right. Find the memory and the shadows go away- but we can't move!" Hawke lashes out with fire in a ring around us, holding back the shadows for an extra few moments.

Righteous became incorporeal when we entered the Fade, like- like he just  _could_ \- maybe they can. Maybe that's why Cole panicked when he fell into the Fade in-game. Maybe it's all too easy to do.

All I know is, I feel  _alive_. I feel  _angry_. And I know what I have to do, now.

The rage doesn't make me sloppy- it's not that kind of rage. Instead of a billowing inferno it's a flash of controlled lightning.

Righteous fury can lead you to great triumphs, if you don't allow your rage to blind you to your cause.

I wonder if he's watching now…

' _I wonder if he'll stay where Excitement takes him to watch, or if he'll try to reach us,_ ' that's a concern…

But he's an adult and he can make his own decisions. If he thinks he can help, I won't turn him away. I just…I wanted him to have an out. To be able to snap awake at a moments notice instead of getting physically attacked.

I have no doubt we'd be powerful together in this fight. But I would never be able to convince him to…

Well. There's lots of things I'm doing he probably wouldn't approve of.

"I have no idea what to do beyond putting up a barrier and running around like dogs chasing their tails till we find it," I say slowly. "But if you guys can keep them off of me, maybe I can build up enough power to do that?"

"That won't work," Hawke says. "The energy you would need, the focus, the control- no one can do that. Not even you, my lady Inquisitor."

He says it like you'd  _expect_  a purple Hawke to say a title.

And I laugh.

For the instant I'm laughing, suddenly- suddenly the shadows melt away and we're left standing alone.

And then they reappear and batter at our defenses even harder than before.

"What just happened?" Nathaniel backs up as Hawke and I maintain a barrier and everyone regroups in the center.

I can hold this for a while, especially with Hawke helping, but we've only got like two minutes before we'll have to throw up another one and our mana is waning. Which is strange because I kind of thought Veil was able to grab pure Fade stuff- maybe only outside the Fade?

Feeling like I have mana at all, is new…

"I don't know, the Herald laughed and I…" Hawke huffs. "I don't know. It's like for a moment the darkness lifted and everything was well."

"I don't think painting me as a holy symbol of light to chase away the shadows is really a good thing, Hawke," I reply. "It's our emotional state, I think. All of us for a moment felt lighter, and the darkness abated."

"How do we defeat a fear demon and his minions? Tell each other stupid jokes!" Hawke snorts. "The others are never gonna believe this. Well. Fenris might, he knows I'm  _hilarious_."

"Jokes are good, but I have another idea, since most of the people here are sans humor?" I say and glance at Nate and Loghain. "No offense, you guys just…seem like you wouldn't laugh in times like these, on principle."

"Usually, no. Not really sure if I can-" Nathaniel is cut off by the barrier cracking down the middle.

The shadows are massing and battering at the weak spot.

"Just cover me and keep them off me, and…listen," I say, sighing. "This is going to be fun, I can already tell."

Trying not to die and banishing the dark clouds of fear at the same time will be hard. Especially as I have no idea whether this will work or not. Maybe if it doesn't, Hawke will just start telling his stupid jokes and the irritation will outweigh the fear, instead of mirth, for those two.

Anywho. Time to get started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's weird, I write more than a thousand words in these chapters on average-- but I load it up in Ff.net's doc thing and it says like nine hundred something words and I'm like...
> 
> What the fuck?


	177. Zevran POV, Fenris POV

Braska! Now what?

"The East wall is breached!" one of my lieutenants, Matteo. "The soldiers are holding position, but they won't last long against those things."

"The northern wall isn't doing so well, either," another lieutenant, Stella. "Before long, whatever those things are- they're going to get to us, here in the center."

"The Inquisitor isn't going to like this at all," the diplomat assigned to me speaks now. What was his name? The Inquisitor handed him over to me before we left and told me to let him handle the nobles I didn't want to deal with.

( _I'm sure you could twist them all around your little finger if you wanted, but you shouldn't have to expend the energy on…some of them._ )

Ah yes. The very worst of the bunch foisted off on a human. And me an elf, in charge! It is like some very confusing dream. Wonderful and terrifying.

Especially now.

"Of course not, her people are in danger," I reply. "She would rain down the fury of a goddess upon our enemies were she here, but alas- all you have is me."

"I was speaking specifically of the children," he says. "If we can't find a way to get them out…if they get hurt or killed…I don't want to see what she might do…" he is whispering with fear now.

I had seen the Lady Nik's many shows of anger around Skyhold, of course. The way her eyes gleam with malice, is so intoxicating. I suppose to others it is merely terrifying.

"I highly doubt whatever it was would be done to  _us_ , but yes, she would be…" something occurs to me then, as I realize I have an idea. "Crows, fan out and search all the upper-class houses in the inner ring of the city for hidden rooms and tunnels."

They leave as I finish speaking and everyone else left in the room has a fit.

"Where are they going!?"

"They're meant to protect us, they can't leave!"

It's just a handful of the Nobles left in the city. We threw out all the ones who didn't wish to cooperate and follow the Inquisition's laws long before now.

I chuckle heartily at the outbursts from the nobility and flash them all my most charming smile.

"Ah ha, but you all seem to misunderstand. It is  _their_  job-" I gesture at the Soldiers and Scouts around the room. "-to protect the people in this room. It is the  _Crow's_ job…"

I smile a bit more widely, "to kill anyone who gets in the way. Rather nasty business, but it must be done. I know you know it to be true. After all, if I have to cull one of you to save the rest, who would actually argue aside from the one I mark for death?"

There is a silence at that.

It isn't true, of course- the Inquisitor would be cross if I began murdering random people in her name- but the way it quiets them is so satisfying.

And look at the way they eye each other, they know I speak true about that, at least. No one would lift a finger for anyone else in this room.

"Now if you will excuse me, I have an escape route to find." I will not fail her. Not in this.

* * *

 

Fenris POV

It has only been a day since we abandoned the Dales camp. I was charged with protecting the civilians in their mad dash away from the enemy. Into the Arbor Wilds.

Myself and…a few others.

"We need more food, a lot more food," Athena growls. "So many people forgot to grab their go-bags, even with the drills we run it seems panic was enough to make them completely forget all procedure."

"It's good that some of them remembered," Merrill says, sunny as ever. "If we'd had  _no_  food to start with, it would be much worse. The Inquisitor will send someone after us soon, I'm sure."

"Can't just wait around for Messere Glow to get us out of this," Sera has been pacing in the clearing for the entire time we've been doing inventory, muttering to herself. "'f we can't just hunt and pick berries, we'll 'ave to find some settlement, city, something. I hate the wilds…" she mutters the last bit to herself.

And then more, under her breath, extolling the virtues of every city she's ever been in that is apparently better than the wilds.

Inhaling deeply and sighing afterwards, I reach out and grab my sword from the ground next to me. Laying it across my lap and staring into the blade's reflection of myself.

I am glad now that I chose to stay in the Dales rather than marching with the Inquisitor to Adamant. I couldn't leave my family, not when I've just found them.

The Inquisitor understood. She nearly bursts into tears any time I ask for anything, it can be a bit unnerving- but she seems to get that way with a lot of people. So I choose to find it amusing.

I wonder what reaction she will have when she is informed of what has happened?

I can imagine it. The rage, the protective fury that comes over her.

A part of me is bursting with anticipation. Waiting to see her march into our midst with her shoulders drawn back, ready to take action against our enemies.

I have never felt this before…what is this feeling?

"Messere Fenris!" one of the Scouts comes rushing over to us.

She is one of the Justicars-in-training, I believe. As the Inquisitor calls them. Shows aptitude with a bow and a sword, but has not yet been properly trained.

( _I don't want to send young, untested people out against hardened criminals or to do complex tasks like taking down a slaver ring and recovering the people alive. I want people who've been through some fights, so I won't admit you to the Justicars until you've proven yourself, but I'm watching you. Do your best._ )

That is what she said during training.

What was her name…? "Yes?"

"Some of the Scouts have gone missing!" she says frantically. "They were supposed to be patrolling but they just-"

"You think those things have been chasing all this time and caught up to us?" Athena stands and reaches for her daggers. "We should check. Everyone needs to get ready to move."

"Calm down," I stand and re-sheathe my sword on my back. "They may have simply found something to hunt. I will go."

"You think you can sneak through the woods better than me?" she asks with affront.

"Athena." I look her pointedly in the eye. "Merrill is useless at taking command and I am terrible at coaxing scared people. You are the only one here who is any good at either of those things. I would not risk you in an unknown, possibly dangerous situation, if I can avoid it."

She is taken aback for a moment. "I..." huffing and crossing her arms, she replies, "fine. Just don't die. The Inquisitor seems to be especially fond of you, I don't want to take the blame for your death."

"I assure you," I turn and walk off toward the edge of our camp with the Scout at my side. "I have no plans to die today."


	178. Solas POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real Quick Note: The Zevran and Fenris Chapter right before this took place at the same time as Nik and the others jumping into the Fade. The chapter in which the camp was attacked and Yvanna died, took place before that. They hadn't gotten the news before they went in. That's how the timeline is working.

" _ **Like a small boat…On the ocean.**_

 _ **Sending big waves…into motion.**_ "

Her voice pierces the miasma of fear and even through the curtain of Righteous Fury's power brimming just below the surface. A clarion call to everyone who hears it.

My nape is prickling.

" _ **Like how a single word…can make a heart open.**_ "

The words to this song are unlike any Thedosian song I've ever heard. A lilting melody and…a piano seems to be plucking itself in her memories…among other instrumental accompaniment. I cannot…place them all.

" _ **I might only have one match…**_ "

She smiles defiantly at the shadows crowding around their circle of defense.

"… _ **but I can make an explosion!**_ "

The light in the rocky canyon they reside in, changes. From dreary greenish haze to a lighter, more turquoise shade. She is drawing in powerful spirits of…is that…Resilience? Resistance? Or…perhaps Fortitude. They are…

" _ **And all those things I didn't say. Wrecking balls inside my brain**_

_**I will scream them loud tonight.** _

_**Can you hear my voice this time?**_ "

Her voice gets progressively louder as she takes a wide stance and-

" _ **This is my**_ **fight song** _ **. Take back**_ **my life** _ **song**_

 _ **Prove**_ **I'm alright** _ **soooo-oooong.**_ "

She is taking in all the power they can give her. It pours inside of her soul, directly- and I flinch back at the sight of it. It's too much, she-

" _ **My power's**_ **turned on** _ **, starting right now I'll**_ **be** _ **strong.**_

 _ **I'll play my**_ **fight song** _ **-**_ "

She directs it outward in a sweeping barrier, shoving back the shadows and unearthing some shimmering glimpses of life in the mire. Are those…fractious memories? Hers? Is that what they're after?

"- _ **and I**_ _don't really_ _ **care if**_ _nobody else_ _ **belie-eeves**_

 _ **'Cause I've still**_ **got** _ **a lot of fight**_ **left** _ **in me.**_ "

What she is doing has not been done in…centuries. Not on this scale, at least. Purposefully singing an evocative song to pull spirits to her, drawing on their power while allowing them to feed on the emotion- it is something that many of them may wish to continue, they may not release her after this.

But no. She's thought of that, hasn't she? Why do I always assume she hasn't thought everything through when the reverse is often true?

" _ **Losing friends and I'm chasing sleep, everybody's worried about me.**_ "

A fitting song, I would say. Not only for the situation. It seems to speak to something deep inside of her, and draws out the truest display of emotion I have ever seen within her soul.

" _ **In too deep, Say I'm in too deep**_ "

" **In too deep!** "

The fade echoes her last words, in an odd fashion. Almost harmonizing with her. As if she has said it twice with two voices. One hers…one not, but also- ah.

Veil is adding his voice to the Chorus, I see. And he is  _borrowing_ bits of her again.

" _ **And it's been two years, I miss my home**_

 _ **But there's a fire burning in my bones**_."

Fury is waning, pulling away from her body and reforming into a physical presence, seeming miffed to be cut off from her emotional energy, but not fighting to stay. I wonder why.

" _ **Still believe! Yeah, I still believe**_."

Her energy grows brighter as she begins moving toward the memories on the other side of the rocky canyon. Mixing and mingling, the spiritual energies overlap and create…a bright shade of blue-green that calls to me, to reach out and  _feel_  the depth of her emotions.

It is difficult to resist.

" _ **And all those things I didn't say, wrecking balls inside my brain.**_

 _ **I will scream them**_ **loud** _ **tonight, can you hear my voice**_ _this time_ _ **?**_ "

My body shivers and trembles as the emotional energy spills over far enough for me to feel it without reaching out. I want to stand up and square my shoulders, straighten my back and lift my voice high- but I do not know the words, and adding my energy to hers now could throw her off.

Especially as she's seemed to reach the memories with the others and she will need all the concentration she has to collect them while singing to fend off the darkness.

" _ **This is my**_ **fight song** _ **. Take back**_ **my life** _ **song**_

 _**Prove** _ **I'm alright** _**soooo-oooong.** _

_**My power's turned** _ **on** _**, starting right now I'll** _ **be** _**strong.** _

_**I'll play my** _ **fight song** _**\- And I don't** _ _really care_ _**if** _ _nobody else_ _**belie-eeves** _

_**'Cause I've still**_ **got** _ **a lot of fight**_ **left** _ **in me.**_ "

" **A lot of fight left in me!"**

She sings the same words as before but this time Veil echoes her. It adds, resonance. Pulls more of a response. And the two of them seem to be intermixing more than usual. It frightens me.

And then it is soft and quiet singing again as she reaches out to take the memories. Repeating lines of the song again, as Veil echoes and overlays her voice, truly harmonizing with her now.

Their song is like nothing I have ever heard before.

" **They sing a song of her world!** " Excitement cannot decide between quiet and loud enthusiasm. " **A song of home-but-no-longer-home.** "

Home…but no longer home.

I knew she considered Thedas to be her new home, of course. She speaks often of how much more useful she feels here, how much more productive and full of life Thedas seems to make her.

I had not considered she'd cast off all feelings of  _home_  for her own world. After all…how can you? How is it  _possible_?

I watch as she alights with the energy of the mark, memories being pulled into her body, into her  _soul_ …and then see as she opens her eyes and finishes her song without a pause.

" _ **Now**_ **I've** _ **still**_ **got** _ **a lot of fight**_ **left** _ **in me…**_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions in the Fade are weird. There's some words to describe things that don't really apply to those kinds of things in 'reality' but somehow make sense in the Fade...
> 
> And singing isn't going to become a *thing* really, in my story. It'll get mentioned-- but this was just really impactful and moving to Solas, which is why it was done all out this way.
> 
> In Nik's POV, she'd probably have just mentioned that she was singing a song, named the song and then the rest of the chapter would've been like, sensation as the power filled her up-- man it's so different writing for different people. I mean, you'd figure it'd have to be, but it really is.
> 
> I just got a review on one of my other stories that was simply 'where's the next chapter' and it wasn't jokey, it wasn't cute, it was just a demand. Do not do this.
> 
> I like the 'please more!' and the threats to hold me up with a gun because they showcase excitement, fun and jokey-ness and they're usually not serious demands but I HATE serious demands.
> 
> Do not demand shit from someone who's providing you with a free service, just going to put that out there.
> 
> I love all my comments that I get, usually-- even the critical ones. But this kind of thing pisses me right off.


	179. Chapter 179

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finished this yesterday and had to wait till today to update with it. Nng.

I was  _going_  to pull us all through the rift and out into Adamant's courtyard. That was my original plan. To yank the three stooges and Fury out with me as I leapt through the rift, while they were arguing over who to leave behind.

But after finding out that singing could pull such massive amounts of power  _directly_  to me? That I could make a connection with so many spirits who just wanted the Nightmares to just be  _over_?

The plan changed.

Solas is going to be  _furious_ , but then…he was already a little bit furious, wasn't he? He always is when I do things like this.

I can feel the fear attempting to permeate my being, with intrusive thoughts whispered in my ear.

_Why does he even love me?_

_I make his life so difficult and terrible, he's going to leave me._

_He's going to be so angry, maybe he'll even leave before I get back._

I inhale deeply and brush off the voices.

' _Solas isn't that fickle and he'd tell me to my face before he left me,_ ' it's an incredibly small comfort, but knowing the voices are wrong about  _something_  is enough to propel me forward.

After I sealed the rift shut behind Hawke, Nathaniel, Loghain and Fury- yes, I gave him a look just before throwing them all through and he leapt before I could push. Pulling Hawke along with him. Hawke hadn't released his new friend yet, so I'll see the fallout from  _that_  when I get back.

" **Your fear calls to me,** " the Nightmare booms in a meticulous voice. " **Are you truly the leader they need? Will you not buckle at the first sign of contention? You have walked the easy path for far too long,** _ **Nicole**_ **.** "

"If I buckle, my people will pick up the pieces and go on," I state confidently as I approach the looming mass of nightmare-fuel. "I've taught them how."

A great bloom of emotion opens up inside my chest at that and it overwhelms everything else.

" **Pride may well be your undoing,** " the Nightmare hisses.

I smirk at the mass of shadows and eyes that awaits my approach.

I have pride in my people, yes. But I'm perfectly aware of where that ends and Nationalism begins. And if he meant the double-meaning of Solas being my undoing…

"Yeah I already kinda figured he would be," I say. "The fact that he hasn't killed me, stolen the mark and run off is the only thing that convinces me that he  _won't_  at any time in the future, really."

The Nightmare lashes out with dark energy, something that feels like screaming- and I strafe out of the way with a Fade-step. Though I suppose here it's really a Waking-step. Haha.

The next few minutes are a dance of blows being dodged by me, flipping and twirling around the landscape- scaling great, crumbling walls of rock only to jump backwards and twist my body so I can maneuver around the fear-tentacle trying to smack into me.

The mark doesn't want to respond to my energy when I call on Veil for the specific energy we use to…flip spirits back inside-out.

So the Nightmare doesn't want to be helped. Doesn't want to change. And there's nothing I can do about that.

Thinking of Solas's reaction to yet another spirit destroyed- an  _ancient_  one, at that-

But no, he'd probably hate the Nightmare as much as I do. It's a terrible thing that could have been so good, but chose to become twisted and hateful instead.

A rush of energy fills my limbs and I recognize a new spirit entering the arena and suffusing my soul. It glows with a bright red energy, something deep and filled with red-hot determination.

"You wanna know what a funny side-effect of being in love is?" I grin as the Nightmare hisses and its 'flesh' sizzles when it comes too close to me. "It is  _really_  fucking hard to care about anything else. Everything fades into the background…"

I walk slowly toward the dwindling Nightmare as it growls, and spits acid at me.

But my power is too great and the fear it has tried to plant in me, has not taken root. It's easy to deflect its paltry attacks.

Because I am filled with thoughts of someone I fear more than anyone- and at the same time, cannot fear at all.

In fact…I am filled with thoughts of many someones.

The bright red energy surges into me at every thought of another loved one waiting for me outside the Fade.

' _Solas. Sera. Dorian. Varric. Cole. Cassandra. Vivienne. Leliana. Josephine. Bull. Blackwall._ '

It grows and grows as I think of every single one. Every single person, group or country I want to protect. It fills me with so much power, I feel like I might burst with it…

' _The Hessarians. The brainwashed masses of the Chantry that I've shown another way. The ex-slaves that I stole from Corypheus. The Chargers._ ' I hold them all in my heart as I step forward, spirits of Duty and Compassion and even some spirit that communicates a feeling of protectiveness- surge forward to join me.

**Destroy it**

Their voices cry.

**Save us all**

They plead.

And the power…finds a way to expand me. Make me larger inside so that I can hold it. It's painful and I feel like I'm grinning through a mouthful of blood, but it doesn't matter. I am greater, I am more powerful.

I can destroy the Nightmare and change everything. This is it.

' _It's too much of a paradox for you, isn't it, Nightmare?_ ' I think as I walk up to its quivering body, now the size of a horse. ' _How do you love what you fear? How do you cling to it rather than running away? How can you love so many people, fear so much, and still go on?_ '

A pained noise like a shriek of terror leaves it. " **YOU WILL NOT WIN. I MAY FALL BUT CORYPHEUS WILL** _ **RISE**_ **!** "

"Yeah…no," I lift my hand and snap my fingers, putting all my power into just. One. Thought.

' _Shatter._ '


	180. Solas POV, Nik POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting to get back into the flow, I think. Not gonna jinx it.

The Nightmare is gone. Shattered to pieces and then…collected.

I don't know what she intends to do with those shards of the Nightmare she pulled into Veil's pocket, but it's obvious she already has ideas.

Excitement is shivering and lighting up, bright and filled with emotion. It slowly begins to dim as Nik breathes slowly, coming back to herself.

I don't know what she did to make it possible to wield that much power, but her soul feels stretched and sore when I examine it from afar. I'm certain being closer would make it clearer exactly how damaged she is.

This is why she didn't want me in the party. I never would have allowed her to stay behind, I would have-

I would have dragged her out with me, kicking and screaming, no matter what she said. I would have rendered her unconscious, severing the trust she placed in me and…

My breath catches in my throat and my heart leaps to bash against my ribs. It's…distinctly uncomfortable.

Who am I to decide her fate for her, no matter how I feel about what she has chosen?

( _You are always blind to your own pride. You never notice it is even there…_ )  _her_  voice echoes through my being. One of our many…talks, before the fall. When she was a radiant empress and I was…

I was a young man attempting to overthrow her and everyone else in power.

Her help came with many conditions. It was restricting, but she was helping, and so I bit my tongue and bore under it.

I suppose I was so irritated with every small restriction, I began to close my ears to her words. Though I knew she was much wiser and more measured than I was…I didn't like having to listen.

And now I am confronted with the fact that I so believed in my own understanding of the situations Nik placed herself in…that I would have absolutely felt justified in doing such things…

And I feel  _sick_.

" **Oh…** " Excitement sounds nervous. " **Oh I don't like this feeling…** "

" **You are not** _ **supposed**_ **to** _ **,**_ " I reply to it.

It settles, " **oh, that's good then!** "

It is always so easy to settle a spirit. They have expectations gleaned from the waking world that make up who they are. If what they feel or what someone else is feeling is counter to that, they may warp without the understanding that the feelings don't  _have_  to effect them.

Or even moreso, that bad feelings can be denied, that they are  _supposed_  to make you feel bad…

Always a difficult concept to communicate at any length, but explaining simply…is easy.

For me, these emotions are more difficult to…accept.

* * *

 

Nik POV

" **You know…** " Righteous walks beside me now, not in a physical form again yet but outside of my body at least. " **I've always felt your anger. It's** _ **so much**_ **. Right there, brimming under the surface…but I've never really felt** _ **his**_ **.** "

I flinch a little bit.

" **Oh he's not feeling it** _ **now**_ **,** " he says and grins with his orange-red-light-body. It almost looks just like his physical form, it's just…like a hologram projection or something. " **No. The only thing he feels when you do things like this is usually…what was it Cole said?** "

He hums and I roll my eyes at his dramatic pause.

" **Well, after deciphering, it sounds like all he feels is fear,** " he says and then chuckles. " **Fear of being alone again. Fear of loss. Fear of powerlessness. Why do you do this to him?** " He asks so casually.

"I'm not  _doing_  anything to him," I reply. Frowning and crossing my arms. "What I do has to do with me and no one else."

" **I don't** _ **have**_ **those ingrained gender norms, darling, you're pointing your fury the wrong way.** " His voice is filled with amusement. Who'd have thought Righteous Fury was so…happy-go-lucky. " **You keep thinking of everything you do as** _ **against**_ **someone or something…well. What are you against when you keep him out of the loop?** "

"You already know the answer to that," I reply. I can feel the air around me becoming…sharper?

" **It helps if you say it aloud,** " he says.

I scoff, "from day one he's been lecturing me about how everything I do is irresponsible and dangerous and how I shouldn't have done it."

" **Everything you do** _ **is**_ **irresponsible and dangerous,** " he says with a quirk of his brow.

"It is  _not_ ," I stop in my tracks to glare at him. "Dangerous, I'll give you. But it is my  _responsibility_  to protect my people."

" **And before that**?" he asks. " **When you were not Arbiter, or Inquisitor or Herald? Why did you do it then?** "

"Because I could!" I exclaim.

" **Because no one else could? Or was it simply because everyone expected you** _ **not**_ **to?** " He asks. " **I do adore your rebellious spirit, I must say- but what are you rebelling against now? You are the leader, the one making the rules. And yet still you persist in doing the opposite of what everyone tells you to do. Even when they only say what they do out of concern for your safety, your attitude is still '** _ **I'll show them!'."**_

"There's lots of people who still try to stop me and it's not out of concern," I reply with a furrowed brow. "Solas, I'll give you. He's…worried about me a lot. But everyone else outside the inner circle- and even a few within it, are biased. They want me to stop because it's all new, different, confusing, threatening- to them."

" **Are you sure of that?** " he asks. " **Let's review, shall we?** "

"Review what-" I yelp as I stumble down a slight incline and land on my hands and knees, smarting from the fall. "Ugh…what…"

I'm in so much pain. Everything suddenly hurts, it's like being driven into a wall over and over again as my whole body  _throbs_.

" **When anyone expresses concern, you shoot those concerns down.** " Fury is still talking, pacing around me in a circle, predatory. " **You feel an anger begin to build within you, a righteous fury of the sort that has to do with breaking personal bonds. But there are no bonds there, you imagine them. You even** _ **know**_ **this, and yet continue.** "

Curling into a ball and groaning, "Righteous…" I can barely even understand what he's saying. Why does it hurt so much?

" **Suppose you can't go any further, eh?** " he mocks me. " **If only someone had warned you that using your power like this could result in such an outcome.** "

There is a pause.

" **Oh** _ **wait,**_ " and just leaves it like that as he shifts back to his physical form and picks me up from the ground.

It jars a whimper from me.

" **Now…just have to get out of here. But you shut all the nearest rifts, so I suppose we're walking.** " He chuckles deep in his throat, " **I wonder how you'll react when you wake up. The only available rift in friendly territory is…ah…there you are.** "

I open my eyes that were closed in agony to see him baring his teeth in a grin.

" **His fury is always so controlled, but not like yours. He lets himself** _ **feel**_ **it. Oh, it calls to me. You're not going to be in any condition to do the negotiation thing, are you?** _ **That**_ **will be interesting.** "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired and everything is so fuzzy...


	181. Fenris POV

This is not something I ever thought to encounter.

"How could we have missed this?" I believe her name was Ashavise. "How could they have hidden themselves from us for so long, and why?"

"The people forgot much when Elvhenan fell…it seems they simply forgot more than we realized." And his name is Abelas. It means…sorrow, I believe?

It is the word the Dalish use when apologizing to each other.  _Ir abelas_. So it either means sorrow or sorry…and I cannot imagine a mother naming her child 'sorry'. Not unless she is incredibly cruel.

"You say you found two more of our people?" the woman turns her attention to me now. "What were their names?"

"We will likely not recognize them, but it would be good to know, all the same," Abelas agrees with her and pierces me with his golden eyes.

"Islanil and Nanin," I reply. "Islanil is brunette, Nanin is blonde and they both share red eyes."

Abelas seems to nearly roll his eyes before stopping himself. "Disciples of the wolf, then."

"The wolf?" I have heard of only one tale from Dalish legends that was of any sort of wolf god. "Do you mean Fen'Harel?"

"So we were harboring traitors in our midst, and we left them with our castle," Athena walks over to us. Her duty putting everyone to rights apparently done. "Wonderful."

"Traitors?" Ashavise asks while crossing her arms and glaring. "Why do you call them traitors?"

"Ancients or not, if they followed Fen'Harel, they can't be… _good_ ," Athena finally settles on 'good' though she struggled with…less desirable words, it would seem.

"What quarrel have you with he and his followers?" Abelas questions. Brow pinched, mouth a flat line.

"What. What quarrel do I-!?" she scoffs and throws out her hands. "He locked away the gods!"

"Indeed he did, and may they all rot!" Ashavise snaps.

Athena takes a step backward and her ears flick back. "Wha- what?"

"Do you not know?" Abelas asks. "The reason they were locked away, it is unknown?"

"What reason is that?" I ask and reach to steady Athena. My eyes flicker to the side and I barely manage to catch Merrill's eye.

She blinks at the tilt of my head and approaches us.

"They murdered our lady!" Ashavise snaps and gestures angrily, her accent becoming heavier. "She was doing her service to the people as she has always done, and their hunger for power was threatened!"

"That- That can't be true," Merrill has paused a few paces away.

It seems she will not be comforting Athena.

Pity- I am no good at this.

"It isn't!" Athena steps back and I allow my hand to fall from her back. "It isn't true! They would never- they- they  _protect_ us, they  _taught_  us-"

"Why do you believe great deeds of altruism and a hunger for power are mutually exclusive?" Abelas asks. "Indeed why do you believe that ancient beings could not have been many things throughout their lifespan? You have no concept of what living so long is like."

"Why  _are_  elves no longer immortal?" I ask, thoughtful. I have never wanted to be before- but now that I know it was all true, I wonder…what it would have been like.

"When Elvhenan fell, so did most of ourselves go with it." Abelas grasps Ashavise's shoulder. "Those of us still in slumber were…unaffected. But all those left behind were sundered. Or so we had thought. If they are not separated from themselves, then I wonder what it is that truly shortened their lives."

"It was humans," Athena asserts, much shakier than before. "They came and…and everything changed."

"Mortality is not an illness and cannot be passed like one," Ashavise informs her. Expression severe. "It is much more complicated than that."

Merrill steps forward to ask another question, but a loud  _crack_  and a glowing green fissure opens just behind me.

"Rift!" There is a scurry of movement after I shout the warning.

I back up and draw my sword, activating my markings.

So strange to feel the Ancient Elves while doing so.

Activating my markings has always been painful and isolating. Now I am…connected. To others, in a way I never have been before.

And I still do not understand it.

The rift does not open. It is merely a glimmering seam the size of a man…and then-

"Righteous?" Merrill steps forward and then runs toward the seam as it closes behind them. "Inquisitor!"

Sighing and relaxing out of my ready stance, I re-sheathe my sword and allow my markings to fall silent once more.

The loss of that connection is…disconcerting. I must either leave here or get used to it. And as we have nowhere else to go…

I suppose I must get used to it.

"This is your leader, then," Abelas steps forward just as Merrill finishes her examination.

"She's hurt! Badly!" Merrill shakes as she runs glowing light over her body. "I can't- I need- She needs  _Solas_. Why did you bring her  _here_?"

"He has a few things he needs to do, and I have a need to speak to you," Righteous replies, shifting attention from Merrill to Abelas in quick succession. "You are capable of healing her from this, are you not? We will talk while you do so."

Surprisingly, Abelas chuckles. "I can feel you are new to this form and yet you are so comfortable."

"She allowed me to be what I am," Fury replies.

I feel a bit listless. I now have no further purpose. Fury can take control, with Athena and Merrill…perhaps I should patrol.

"Fenris," Merrill turns to address me. "While they're tending the Inquisitor will you help me set up guard rotations for the Justicars and Guardsmen we have with us? We also need to keep up the children's lessons but Athena and I can handle that if you-"

"I will instruct the fighters where to position themselves," I accept the task with relief.

I would spend my extra time with my family but I fear my fuse is short and I do not wish to snap at them.

That is what the Inquisitor says, isn't it? That sometimes I have a short 'fuse' as though I am a bomb waiting to go off?

I watch them as they carry her into the Temple proper and remember…

( _Everyone is, really. Everyone has an exploding point- some people call it a boiling point. Some people's fuses are longer or shorter and it can vary from day to day. You just seemed like you were short some fuse today so I thought I could help._ )

She brought me an apple pastry topped with  _gelato_. It is something from Tevinter that…well, they do not have it in the south and I was never…

I was a slave. Not given finer desserts, even when I was 'rewarded'.

She couldn't possibly know how I felt after I ate it, but then…this is the Inquisitor, so perhaps indeed she could.

Something in me clenches at the memory of her sooty face and the smell of burnt hair that surrounded her…

Perhaps after I have…tended to the warriors I will return to guard the Inquisitor's rest. Yes, I believe that will make me feel…better.

Less terrible.

Is it not the same?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it isn't clear enough-- Fenris lit up in the forest and the Elves saw his soul. They stopped attacking long enough to get the story from him and they weren't ready to let him leave yet, so they acquiesced to him bringing the Villagers in.
> 
> Then they learned the rest of the truth about souls in Thedas from Merrill.


	182. Solas POV

I wake, frustrated and angry.

( _Fury took her somewhere safe_ ) is all Excitement would tell me when I asked if they'd returned to the waking world.

I would like to trust that Righteous Fury hasn't taken her anywhere with ulterior motives or untoward intentions, but-

"You're awake, finally!" Ren shifts next to the cot on which I'd been sleeping. "Is she alright?"

"She had better be," I reply while climbing to my feet. "Get Cullen, we have to begin-"

"Ah! Well…" Ren fidgets and chews his lip, "we were hoping…you could help with that, actually."

I pause there, staring at him. "With…what?"

"Cullen isn't…ah…doing so well," he says. Nervous and fidgeting more vigorously. "He seems…confused? A demon popped up, just before the rift was sealed…it was some form of Desire, I think."

"He is injured?" Ren is a better healer than I could ever be. That cannot possibly be the problem.

"In a manner of speaking…" he turns on his heel and leads the way out. Pale and drawn.

Is everything suddenly going wrong for a reason?

I exit the room I was sleeping in to a sight…that is much different from the one before I entered.

The troops are disorganized, the healers are overburdened and there is still a demon prowling the field. Though it seems mostly concerned with the figure before it.

Dahlia is standing next to Cullen, holding a barrier with her teeth gritted and her eyes closed tightly.

As I get closer to them, I can hear her chanting something under her breath, though since she is chanting it  _through_  her teeth, it is largely unintelligible.

Cullen, though. I _can_  hear.

"Maker preserve me and keep me from evil, maker turn not your eye away, maker I beseech you to release me from my bonds-" he keeps repeating prayers. Some of them familiar, some of them obviously made up on the spot.

His eyes are closed tightly as Dahlia's, brow furrowed so severely his face is…wrinkled and red and he seems to be in pain.

But Dahlia is protecting them behind that barrier, so what is ailing him?

( _Cullen never should've been able to go on serving. He was traumatized. Beyond anything else, beyond the question of his morality or of his policies-_ _ **that**_ _is why he shouldn't have been commander to begin with. But Cassandra is his friend now, and is trying to support him through his withdrawal. So if I tried to displace him…it wouldn't end well. I have to wait._ )

I recall that conversation just after Cullen attempted to hide a Templar from her prosecution. He'd groped a girl in the circle once and Cullen believed the Herald's punishment too harsh for a first offense that was never repeated.

Nik was livid. I asked her why she never simply dismissed the man.

( _Believe me, if the option ever becomes available in a way that won't split the Inquisition down the middle- I'll do it. But for now, he still_ _ **appears**_ _fit for duty._ )

Well. I suppose this solves that problem. If only she were here to make the decision to replace him.

' _Fury if she comes back with a single scratch more than she had before-_ ' I focus on the intense well of anger that is slowly building in me. ' _I will hold you responsible, whether you put it there or not._ '

"Cullen," I call out to him and stop next to the barrier, ignoring the demon sashaying toward me.

"Solas, please-" Dahlia is beginning to droop and her barrier is flickering in and out of existence. "Help."

"Let it fall and leave, now," I reply.

She drops her arms and shuffles away, tripping and nearly falling before Ren catches her.

"Are you alright,  _Vhenan?_ " he asks as he supports her away.

( _Mark my words, they'll be a couple before we get back. Adversity brings people together like nothing else_ ) It seems she was right again.

"Oooh…you are something…new…" the demon circles the both of us now.

Still ignoring it, I kneel down in front of Cullen. "Come back from wherever you are, Cullen. It cannot hurt you unless you allow it in. This is not Pride or Terror, it is  _desire_. You must want it for it to have power over you."

There are tears slipping over his face as he clenches his hands harder before him and his face turns redder with the effort of gritting his teeth. He shakes his head profusely, but does not respond.

I glance at the demon, then, to determine what form of Desire it is.

It grins at me with a borrowed face. A young mage woman with curling hair and pointed ears, bright eyes filled with mirth. "Oh but he  _does_  want me…"

"He wants who you represent," I correct. "Is it not tiring for you to be someone else all the time?"

Nik somehow is able to talk demons and spirits alike around to her way of thinking…so…if I think like Nik, perhaps I can also do so.

I will have a spell ready to bind it in case I cannot, but all the same…I will try.

It chitters in a light voice and smiles wider, "oh but it's so much fun…"

"I should think it would be more so to be desired as you are," I reply.

It pouts, "I am not  _desire._ " It is offended, I think.

"What are you, then?" I ask.

It grins once again, " _covetousness_!" It is very excited to tell me. Either because it is often mistaken for desire, or because it does not speak to non-spirits often.

"I see," I reply.

So Cullen covets someone. Coveting is different from base desire. Covetousness is based in taboo or inappropriate feelings born from…ah. She is an Elven mage.

Andrastians, Templars- they would both consider desire for an Elven mage to be inappropriate and taboo, wouldn't they?

( _As far as Cullen has managed to go on his own…it's not actually all that far at all. He's still racist. Still discriminatory toward mages- still just…terrible. But no one can see it. He tries to be better, which is the only reason I haven't had him killed yet._ )

I was shocked to find out she'd considered assassination to begin with, but after some thought…it made complete sense.

Nik is sweet and soft until you are a danger to others she protects. And then she is harsh and swift. I am only a bit surprised at myself now, when she does something that surprises me.

Because it means I am still not seeing everything. And that is no fault of hers- she is transparent.

( _You refuse to see what doesn't suit your narrative sometimes, you know?_ )

Breathing deeply and attempting to recall the few times that Nik has tended to someone who seemed to be unaware of where they were or what was happening around them…

I stand. "Where is the next highest ranking officer?" I ask.

Everyone is staring at me.

"Uhhh," Arisala steps out of the crowd- the Tal'Vashoth whose mercenary company joined with us after learning of her survival. "The Nightingale's handling other business nearby that the Herald asked her to see to. The Seeker apparently went off on her own mission with Blackwall…"

"And Cullen's in no condition to lead," Hawke walks through the crowd and into the clearing with us. "Sorry we couldn't stop her from…well, you know."

I sigh, "as if you could have." And laugh, just a little, covering my face.

"We have the Wardens in hand, at least," Nathaniel Howe steps out and stands with Hawke. "I think we could get them all moving toward Weisshaupt before sundown at this rate. I'm sure you and yours would prefer to have us out of the way."

"I believe Nik would prefer to send someone with you," I reply and raise a brow. "Someone to be in command of all of you, until she can figure out how to fix this issue."

"Issue?" Loghain comes up behind them both and they part for him. "The issue is done with."

"Your entire order almost conquered Orlais because the command chain did not allow for others to question their leader's motives," I reply. "Nik would consider that an incredibly large issue that needs to be resolved."

"And how would she do that, exactly?"  _that_  woman. "We don't question because our duty is to save Thedas from the very worst outcome. If we have everyone running around, questioning everyone's every move, nothing would get done!"

Clarel is in chains and being held between a few Wardens, looking pale and a bit worse than she did the last time I saw her. I don't regret my reaction, exactly…but I lost control and harmed her when I should not have. That is unacceptable.

"Nik has creative solutions to problems I once thought inevitable," I reply. "She may have ideas already, I don't know. She is…safe. For now. But-"

"You don't know that," a very familiar voice.

I watch with rising trepidation as Righteous Fury steps out of the shadow of two other soldiers and shakes his head at me. "I mean, she's not going to kill her. But she has plans, and who knows if she really cares how much it hurts?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't remember if anyone noticed but eh-- Fury's been in two places here for a bit and it seems like at least most of you didn't really notice that?


	183. Nik POV, Solas POV

"I don't get it," I deadpan. "Why not just show yourself as you are to them?"

Righteous was there when I woke up, in pain and confused- and proceeded to simply wave his hand to dispel all the aches and weird fuzziness in my head.

He also turned into Flemeth, so that was new.

"Would you, were it your people?" she asks, curiously. "After so long without you?"

I think about that for a moment and huff, "if my people included Abelas and the others? Yes! You didn't teach them to be independent or give them new purpose beyond serving you, so they're just waiting for you to come back."

"And if I did, what then?" she asks and spreads her hands. "What outcomes can you imagine?"

I could imagine lots of them. "Fine, you've made your point and it's your decision, so I'm not going to try and persuade you."

Throwing off the blankets and standing up, I turn and cross my arms. "Why did you masquerade as Fury, though? And…were you  _always_  Fury or just…"

"You sent him through the rift, do you recall now?" she says and watches me with her unnervingly focused eyes. "I took his place and put the memories…elsewhere, for a bit. You should remember now."

"Why?" I ask. And then… "Wait, you're making too much sense."

"My dear girl, if you had any fear of effecting the timeline, you'd speak in riddles as well," she replies. "I have no need of that, here."

"...how do you know about me?" I ask. "I mean…I know you're kind of spirit-y and all…"

She chuckles, "it is not due to my nature as a vessel for Mythal. Do you not recall how you came to be here? Oh of course not, you… _removed_  those memories…"

"How I came to be here as in here or as in…?" I'm so confused.

"You will discover that, in time," she says. "I have already spoken with Abelas. He does not know who I really am, but believes I carried a message from Mythal."

"He can't tell you're lying to him?" I quirk a brow at that.

"It is not a lie," she replies archly. "Everything I say to him is in fact a message from Mythal. He simply doesn't know who is truly giving it to him. And that is for the best, I assure you."

"Can't your people sense you? Or something?" I gesture helplessly at my face. "The Vallaslin work, don't they? Like, as a tether or something? Like I'll have with the Justicars?"

"What you created for your people is something wholly different," she says. "And for the Vallaslin to become reactivated, I would have to appear before them and take command of them. It is based upon intention and will."

"Right…" I sigh. "Okay, so…why are you here? What do you want?"

"What I want is for Thedas to survive what must be done," she replies. "You are everything I could have hoped for and more in an Inquisitor and a Herald. But you must be more, even still."

"So…something Abelas is going to do is going to make me more?" I scrunch my face up. "I'm not drinking the well and being bound by that Geas, just telling you right now."

"The well has already been dealt with," she replies. "What is a Geas to those who already consider themselves under one, after all?"

I stare at her, a little horrified. "Who?"

"Ashavise was always a bit of a spitfire, from what I recall," she replies. "But so curious. So excited for new experiences, new knowledge. Wonderful fighter, excellent thinker. It is why I chose her to become a Sentinel."

"I have no idea who that is…so I'll just find them later once I'm out of this room…" I sigh and sit down on the bed again, leaning my forearms on my thighs as I look up at the goddess of Justice and Vengeance… "What else do you want? Besides helping me to…become more, or whatever?"

"I already told you, girl," she replies with that enigmatic smile. "Simply because the aim seems selfless to you, does not mean that it  _is_."

And then her whole body shimmers into nonexistence and I'm left alone.

Well, this has been a trip.

I'm basically naked, with just my bra and underwear to cover me, so that's the first problem that needs solving right now.

No need to focus on all the other huge things that are looming over me. Like how apparently even with my new plans, Thedas is still in danger of falling…

Clothes. Over my bra and underwear. Right.

Well, it's more like a corset that only covers my boobs than an actual bra as we have no elastic and I have no idea where to even begin with making some…but it works for me. So whatever.

My scars hurt, like they usually do- but more…noticeable now. Now that she's stopped…doing whatever it was she did to make the pain go away.

The only thing in here I can see that might contain clothes is the closet on the wall and it's made of old, fossilized wood and seems like the doors are permanently shut…so…

I get up and walk around, looking for other things to search- but I find nothing.

Figuring that I could probably call out for someone, I go to the door…but the knob melts away underneath my hand.

"What the hell?" I step back and shake my head. "No. No, I'm not in the Fade, what-"

"Your training begins now," Abelas's voice echoes through the room. "You will not leave that room until you have dressed."

I groan and smack my head into the door. "There's no clothes in here!"

"Are there not," and his tone is just so…

Fuck it, if this is some kinda test, I'll figure it out.

So I turn around, facing the room and breathe to calm myself down. I'm not trapped, I'm just training. I'm sure he'd let me out if I were in any kind of real danger…

And if not, I guess there's nothing I can do about it. Least not from here, anyway.

* * *

 

Solas POV

As it turns out, I am the highest ranking official left.

Leliana is investigating new evidence as it pertains to our missing people, and when sent for she could only reply that she could not return. And Cassandra, Blackwall, Vivienne and Josephine are all unavailable on their own errands and too far away to call back...

And so replacing Cullen fell to me.

I was aware of all the issues that might arise if I didn't choose wisely, both from within the Inquisition and outside it. I know Nik would likely find a way to place whoever she wanted without a peep from anyone- but she is their leader. They would likely refuse to question her until she's done something terrible.

Even then, half of her followers might still…

That is unnerving to think about.

Another ex-templar was truly the only way to placate the non-mages. But that did not mean I had to choose someone who was like Cullen.

Vivienne took the Bull's Chargers with her to Orlais, and left the ex-templars under her purview to march with us. So I had many choices.

I made the choice Nik would have made.

She made mention of him before, when she lamented all the people passed over for the position of Commander. ( _There_ _ **was**_ _one, who would've been great, even as a Templar. Delrin Barris. He's one of the Templars who actually thinks the Templars were built to_ _ **protect**_ _mages- he doesn't just say it, he believes it._ )

I took his measure myself once I realized I was effectively put in charge…and appointed him.

"I can't believe this," he's looking over the maps with myself and Varric now.

"I'm sorry, Solas," Cole is still sitting in the corner with Fury, hugging himself. "They took him and I couldn't stop them. She's going to…"

"She will not do  _anything_  if we can resolve this before she finds out about it. A slight moment of discomfiture at worst if we can rescue him now." I tell him, trying to be soothing and failing, I think. "Where would they take him?"

"I could track them, I think," Arisala puts the marker she was considering back down on the map as she speaks. "But it's been a whole afternoon, so I would need…something to point me in the right direction to begin with. All this shifting sand…"

"They're obviously taking him home," Fury chimes in. "We don't need to intercept them so much as we need to cut them off at the pass. From what I recall, in the…" Fury looks to me very pointedly. "Well. They're supposed to be in Redcliffe, let's just leave it at that."

"Redcliffe?" Something from the false Thedas? "Why?"

"They were supposed to wait!" Cole whispers and curls into a ball. "I felt, before they attacked- they didn't want to wait. They were supposed to wait to see if he'd go!"

"Dorian was sent a letter, pleading with mother Giselle to have him meet up with his father in Redcliffe," Fury speaks slowly as if pulling the memory from the very bottom of his mind. "So if they  _are_  hoping to get paid for his capture, that'd be where they'd take him…"

"I cannot see to this personally," I lean back in my seat and sigh. "I would be leaving the Inquisition's forces mostly leaderless, save for Barris…"

"She wants you to take charge of them," Fury reminds me.

I know that, it does not make it less irritating. "She should recall that I don't like being forced into positions like this." Mythal never  _could_  resist testing me.

"I'll go, and I'll take the Justicars," Arisala speaks again. "You made me their commander till the actual commander gets back-" she shrugs "-so I'll take them down there, use this as a test run and we can give her the reports afterwards. Right? Good experience for us, even if it goes bad and we end up losing some people."

"I would prefer you take as many precautions possible," I say and rub my face with my hands. "She will not like coming back to half her Justicars killed, no matter what the cause. They are her people. She will mourn them."

"Yeah, she's like that," Varric says quietly. He has been sitting there quite silently for a while now.

I don't believe he likes any of this any more than I do.

"Now…what to do about the Dales camp?" Barris asks.

Fury chuckles, "it's already being taken care of."

My head snaps up.

"You shouldn't go to her, yet," he tells me. "It's  _important_  that you are both where you are right now. I can't access the reasoning, but it's there."

"I don't  _like_  this," I growl under my breath and clench my fists. "What reason could she have…"

"She believes she is helping you both…somehow," Fury replies. "I don't know what she's afraid you won't be able to stand up against, but it must be something terrible."

The Evanuris? No. They are remnants, and while powerful remnants they may be…this can't possibly be what has her moving so openly.

"Go and get Dorian," I flick my wrist at Arisala. "When you are all returned here, we will…move on the Dales. Until then…there is yet more to do."

"Has Zevran arrived yet?" Barris asks.

Cole begins muttering under his breath, as he does any time the elf is mentioned. At least he seems to be hanging on to the last threads of his spiritual nature…somehow.

"He should be here shortly. He saved the children and much of the people," I say. "But they have been traveling for days and they are…exhausted, no doubt. In need of healing and food. They should be our priority for now."

"And Skyhold?" Varric picks up the tower piece and contemplates it. "What do we do about that?"

"We wait for a request for aid. Otherwise…nothing," I reply. "Nik made it clear she wants everyone to know that the elves in Skyhold can fend for themselves. If they are simply perceived as an arm of the Inquisition- they will never gain their autonomy. Not in the way she wants them to."


	184. Nik POV, Solas POV

The fossilized closet had nothing inside it- I knew because I could see inside the cracks of the damn thing.

The bed in the room was little more than a stone cot with a mattress shoved on top- and there were no linens on it. The mattress itself was just…like a woven bed of reeds that had so many layers of reeds- so many fucking layers.

And I couldn't use those either.

There  _used_  to be bedsheets and covers and shit- but apparently the door knob wasn't the only thing that was never really there.

"How are you doing those illusions?" I ask as I prowl the room for the hundredth time. "Solas says it's harder to make illusions feel like they're there- since the Veil."

His voice seems to emanate from the room's walls, "it is."

"You're not much for conversation, huh?" I observe. "Well are you gonna give me a hint or do I have to keep circling the room for the next week until I die from thirst and starvation?"

"I already told you, to get dressed," he replies. Like it's actually helpful and not just frustrating.

"And how am I supposed to do that, exactly?" I ask. "Y'know, this'd be a good time for you to advise me, Veil."

My palm doesn't so much as sputter when I stare at it.

"Really?" I ask. "You've been incredibly quiet lately and it's beginning to worry me."

It flickers for just a moment, but he says nothing.

"You know that's not really reassuring, right?" I sigh.

So.

…

I have no fucking idea what to do, here.

* * *

 

Veil POV

" _ **She isn't going to get this**_ **,** " I tell the Sentinel. " _ **She needs more than you've given her, either information or materials. As it is now, she thinks you've hidden something in that room.**_ "

"I have," he responds.

He is…asleep, for lack of a better term. Returned to Uthenera for just long enough to make this all possible and watch her progress.

This temple…was protected from the worst effects of the fall. However, it still has limitations. So he has to…maintain it, while the others supply the power.

" _ **Why is Mythal taking so much interest in her?**_ " I ask.

"It is not for us to know," he replies. "I dislike helping a Shemlen, but I will not refuse a plea from my lady."

" _ **Hmf,**_ " I sit down cross-legged on the bed and sigh. " _ **And I can't interfere, because?**_ "

"She relies on you too heavily as it is," he replies. "She needs to learn this on her own."

I  _hate_  that I can't argue with that, you know. " _ **This might take longer than we have, then.**_ "

"We would normally do something like this over the course of weeks. So it's possible she simply will not find a way before his forces are upon us," he admits. "Mythal asked that I give her the chance to learn, not that I take it easy on her. She knows me better than anyone, she knows this is simply my way."

" _ **Meaning she would've taken that into account, I guess,**_ " I lie back on the bed and curl my arms under my head…just watching her pace.

She's in the waking and we're in the dreaming, so she can't see me watching her, which is…unsettling.

I am always watching from within the mark, right beside her in the dreaming- but somehow that feels different from this. I feel like I'm being…secretive. And I don't like it.

Normally it would tickle me to get one over on someone- but she and I are linked so completely it feels like deceiving  _myself_.

"You have changed, wolf." Abelas stands rigidly in one corner, watching her with focused and hawk-like eyes.

" _ **I'm not the wolf anymore,**_ " I reply. " _ **I am not…one with myself. And don't intend to be any time soon, either.**_ "

Myself and the other me…we are not…quite on speaking terms, even now.

"Is that so…" he replies.

I remember Abelas. Always the erstwhile defender and right hand to the lady Mythal. Justice and Sorrow go hand-in-hand, after all…

" _ **You will meet him before long,**_ " I reply. " _ **You'll know him when you see him, but…he won't resemble the me that you remember, either. Even moreso than**_ **I** _ **don't.**_ "

"I cannot imagine that brat changing so much," he says. "Pride does not easily become Wisdom."

" _ **He hasn't quite become that, either,**_ " I say with some amusement. " _ **Mostly he's just learned to be many things.**_ "

"He has totally immersed himself, then." His disapproving tone is obvious.

" _ **Haha, yeah…**_ " I can't believe he can't even tell how much like everyone else he is, now. People like Abelas retain their…spiritual nature…before everything else. People like Cole…slowly learn to become more like the other people who were born with bodies, over time…

And people like my other self…

" _ **He doesn't know that, though…and implying that he's in any way similar might offend him,**_ " I inform him.

His eyes close as he sighs. "So he is the same in  _some_  ways."

* * *

 

Solas POV

I hate this.

"Messere Solas!" A woman from the fashion guild, as Nik calls it. "We can't decide where to go with the designs next- we always have new ones for the next week from her ladyship but-"

"Nik has a team for such things, does she not?" I have the incredibly urge to cut off everyone who is calling her 'ladyship' in her absence. I can't fathom why it's bothering me so much, but it is.

"Yes, but they usually just give her options and things to choose from and then the Inquisitor uses those choices to create something new." She fidgets in the face of my glare. "It's important! It's a good portion of our funds, nobles in Orlais wanting to be up on the newest trends."

Sighing and pinching the bridge of my nose, I try to remember the sketches the last time I saw them. "Do you have a catalogue of all the clothing you've made till now?"

She blinks, "well. Yes?"

"And you cannot do this yourself by checking the old designs against the new ones?" I ask.

"The lady inquisitor worked off of designs from…from wherever it is she's from," she replies. "We don't know anything about that place and all our own styles have already been done…"

I don't have time for this! "Re-release all the old designs in new colors with new accessories. Follow a theme if you must. I don't know any more of her- home. Than you do."

The woman droops at that, but I am already moving past her.

My methods for acquiring wealth when it was necessary were not…legitimate. Smuggling, robberies, false marriages and assassinations are more to my taste.

Nik prefers to flaunt her methods in everyone's faces so that they do not suspect anything untoward is going on behind closed doors. ( _People don't go looking for answers unless something doesn't add up, usually. People are…funny that way._ )

"There you are!" it is a small comfort not to be addressed as 'Messere' by those who know me. "We need help holding up this barrier so the builders can slot everything in place."

Straightforward, easy work that I would no doubt be assisting with regardless is  _also_  greatly comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up! Apparently everyone else BUT Nik and Solas...for some reason...
> 
> I don't have it all written up yet, but the story says it's their turn...


	185. Zevran POV, Hawke POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am procrastinating on my Interactive Novel...
> 
> Oh did I tell you guys I was making it or did I just put it all over Tumblr? Eh, I'll tell you now.
> 
> You can find the project on Patreon if you don't want to go to tumblr: https://www.patreon.com/UnrealRomance

Before, I was nothing but a killer. Even during the Blight, my skills at dispatching enemies were crucial.

Then, I was a protector, and the lady Inquisitor gave me my own post…

And now I am a nanny.

"Look, look!" Zhiva calls to me as she comes running over with what I hope is not another snake. Harmless or not, it gave me a scare to see it wrapped around Santiago's tiny fingers. "Can you fix it?"

A baby bird chirps weakly within the cup of her hands.

I sigh, "it isn't broken,  _Cariño_. It is a baby, and misses its mama."

"Oh," she replies. "Its mama is gone."

"It cannot live without a mama," I begin.

"I can be its mama!" she says with bright, sparkling eyes.

I repress the urge to groan and smile at her, "why don't you…ah…ask one of our Dalish friends what you need to do?"

"Okay!" she turns and runs off, cradling the baby bird close to her chest with her small hands.

"Ai…" I stand from the crouch I'd fallen into to take a closer look at the bird.

"Well look at you," Isabela saunters over. "Didn't you used to shy away from children?"

"They are easier with some experience," I mutter. "But what is it you need, my lovely Isabela?"

"I'm bored and everyone's sitting on their ass without their leader so…how about you and I find some trouble to get into?" she smiles so charmingly. And I am tempted…

"I cannot leave the children alone," I gesture around at the children running to and fro within the confines of the keep. They know not to stray.

"Someone else could do that, you know," she replies, seriously. "You don't have to take on that responsibility."

I shift my weight. "I cannot fail this, not after…Wycome."

"What, you think the Inquisitor's gonna throw you out on your ass?" she asks with a sparkling laugh. "I haven't been here that long but I already know that's likely not going to be a problem."

I shake my head, "it isn't about her…"

"Well if you're decided on it, say no more," she replies. "I'll go see if Varric is up for something."

"Have fun, my beauty," I smile and bid her farewell.

Once again I sit upon a crate and watch the children as they play.

* * *

 

Hawke POV

"Agh! Watch it!" I block a particularly low blow and spin away from her as she pursues me.

"Gotta keep your guard up on all your weak spots!" she replies, gleefully whacking at the back of my knees and then my gut when I nearly fall over. "A Justicar is always aware of their blind spots and the places where their armor is thinnest!"

I lie on the ground, groaning as she stands over me with a triumphant grin on her face.

"You're terrible," I tell her.

"I'm just more experienced," she says with a kinder smile as she reaches out a hand to help me to my feet.

I grunt and groan as I make it back onto my feet. "I can see why Solas sent you with us."

" _Someone_  has to train you," she replies with a grin. "Why not two of the very first Justicar trainees?" Her expression dims, "at least until Nik comes back."

"Does anyone have any idea where she went?" I ask as we walk back to camp. Training is over for now, I suppose.

It'll start up again in a few hours, as it always does.

"Could be one of the places where we suffered an attack, I can see her storming off to protect the civilians," she says. "Otherwise…I don't know."

" _Vhenan_ ," Ren walks up to her from camp. "Walk with me?"

She smiles differently now, "where are we going?"

They walk off into the woods together, flirting- reminding me of…well.

"How was training, love?" Anders meditates, usually. When he can get a spare moment. Finding his calm. It's something the Avvar taught him, to help manage Justice.

"As painful as always," I reply, sitting next to him. I'll wait until he's finished before we talk.

I'm glad on more than one level that we gave the Inquisitor a chance. But I am especially glad the only price we had to pay was…

Well, nothing. Until Solas was put in charge, and I can't say I blame him for the caution…it isn't like I detest learning new things and protecting people, so it really wasn't hard to say yes to his proposal.

( _Nik wouldn't want to take over the Gray Wardens, but she would prefer to give them some sort of oversight, I believe. And since you and your spouse are acquainted with them, I believe you would be the easiest, simplest choice. She normally makes this determination, but…she is not here._ )

I wonder how I would feel if Anders disappeared off the face of the earth without any contact to tell me where he was or how he was doing? I can imagine the gut-wrenching terror and the heartbreak, if I try…but I don't like to.

I don't need to, so I won't.

( _If you become a Justicar, the both of you, you will be her eyes and ears in Weisshaupt, representing her. Calling for the protection of the people before everything, that is a Justicar's only duty. That is the only duty she left to them. They do not even answer to her, though they would prefer to._ )

An entire policing force that has no leader and is only given enough power to defend civilians from nobility and other people seeking to oppress or harm them. Seems too good to be true. And I said so.

( _She anticipates that there will be corruption. She…says that there always will be. The best you can do is create a system in which that corruption can be found and ripped out as soon as possible. I don't know how she intends to do so…but I suppose we shall all see._ )

With the way things have been going, I can't say I'm all that enthused to know what she plans next.

Oh I'm sure it will be very exciting. And very dangerous.

As if I'm one to talk.

"Love?" Anders reaches out to take my hand. "It's going to be alright, you know."

He is so serene when he's finished his meditations and the smile he gives me is languid, relaxed…at peace. It tugs at my heart.

"I know," I reply and squeeze his hand, smiling back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Zev so much...


	186. Cassandra POV, Blackwall POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEE END NOTES, IT'S IMPORTANT.

"Why…" my hands are stained with the blood of the Lord Seeker, and I _still_ do not understand.

"Cassandra," Blackwall's hand falls to my shoulder. "I will take charge of the soldiers. Take your time to come to terms with this…and I will send for an update on the battle in the Approach."

My head dips, "it will take more time than we have, to…"

"Lady Cassandra!" a scout rides into Caer Ostwin, bearing Inquisition colors. They are the only one, as I am surrounded by Hessarians and their armor has not yet been replaced or modified.

It is a striking sight, at this moment.

"What is going on?" I stand and face the oncoming rider and my foot nudges something.

It is the book that Lucius offered me.

"There have been attacks on the Dales camp, Wycome and Skyhold!" he announces. "The Arcane Advisor of the Inquisition is…leading in absence of the Inquisitor."

"Solas…is in charge? Of our forces? Where is Nik? What about Cullen and Leliana?" this is too much.

"As far as the Advisor is willing to say, she is undertaking intensive training elsewhere and cannot be reached…" the scout sighs. "The civilians and children from Wycome have arrived at Adamant, and Skyhold has not called for aid…"

"And the Dales camp?" I ask.

"There has been word of unknown allies aiding them…and that perhaps that might be where the Inquisitor has gone, but that is simply hearsay." The messenger shakes his head, "Commander Cullen has been…discharged, due to…mental illness."

What? No! "What mental illness?" this is a farce!

"It is said he…collapsed, when faced with a desire demon on the field," the messenger replies. "And Lady Leliana is on a mission to recover captured Inquisition soldiers and civilians."

"What else?" Blackwall throws his hands wide…obviously not serious.

There cannot be more.

"Messere Dorian was kidnapped, and a force of Justicar Trainees is going after him," the messenger informs us.

"Dorian?" If Nik knew, she would not be…wherever she is. Have they tried to notify her?

…no. Solas would not involve her if he could handle the situation himself.

Sending the Justicars is his way of handling the problem. Going in person would be Nik's.

I don't like thinking he would simply neglect to tell her, but perhaps…

"What are our orders?" Blackwall inquires. "What does Solas think we should do?"

The Messenger sighs, "lady Leliana may require aid in the future, so he wishes you to take up position near her and observe the situation. You are too far from the Dales camp to go after  _her_ , he told me to tell you. Even if that  _is_  where she went…"

Making a disgusted noise under my breath, I rip off my gauntlets and pick up the book next to my foot. "I have studying to do while we travel. Do tell Solas that I will hold him personally responsible for anything that goes wrong while the Inquisition is under his purview."

I cannot believe he is the only one left to take that position. If I were with the main force of our army-

But I am not the leader of the Inquisition. Neither is Solas…but at least I believe he wouldn't go against her wishes.

As for me, I am unsuited to ruling a nation of people. Not because I am incapable, but…because I don't want to. I have never wanted to.

My life is the life of a warrior. A protector. A servant of the Maker. And that is how I have always wanted- no. Needed. To live.

"We will go to Leliana's position, then. Where was she last seen?" I ask.

"The Hinterlands," he replies. "I have the spot marked on my map, I'm to lead you there…"

"Let us go and be done with this place." I am determined not to let this beat me.

* * *

 

Blackwall POV

The Hessarians are going to stay at Caer Ostwin and await the Inquisition forces we sent for.

Solas has to shuffle people around and he doesn't know what Nik knows about them…so it's likely it'll all end up in some big mess that she'll have to clean up when she gets back.

If she were here…

I don't know what she's doing, but it feels wrong not to have her at the helm.

Followed people before. Believed in them.

…was a leader, myself.

Am a leader, now.

When someone is just…right for the job, you feel it.

I've never quite felt right taking up the mantle of the Hessarian's leader but…it's a responsibility I can't shirk, no matter how badly I believe I fit the role. She gave it to me, specifically to me.

Not a Gray Warden, not a warrior, just me.

( _I could've had any of our companions fight him, really. It didn't necessarily have to be_ _ **you**_ _, but…it seems fitting now. You've got a level head for the most part but you're able to get loose and have fun with your men. They'll need that kind of influence after what the last Hessarian leader was like_ )

After I asked her why she didn't just call Bull to handle the situation, she had lots of reasons. Oh, he's got the chargers- he's a Qunari and they might resent being led by him when they're all human, thinks of that ilk.

But when I pressed her, she told me that she wouldn't have assigned him anyway. Nor anyone else. That she was planning to, right up until she realized it wouldn't be much of a fight.

Apparently part of gettin' people's respect and admiration is lettin' them see you struggle. And in our fight, the Hessarian leader pushed me. Not too far- I was the superior swordsman by half…but he was strong and brutal and fought dirty.

If Bull had walked over and knocked the man on his back and chopped his head off in one movement, it would've been… _frightening_ , but that isn't what she wanted.

( _The person that leads them has to seem fallible to them. Fallible but strong_ )

Was almost insulted by that until I remembered the Inquisitor- Just the Herald, at the time -didn't consider fallibility to be a bad thing.

No, in fact, she always says…'If someone seems perfect, they're probably worse than anyone else, just in secret' and 'Don't think yourself finished with anything even until the day you die' to encourage the troops. And everyone else.

She believes failure and weakness is just…something you get past. Something that makes you learn and move around things and grow. And she saw I had more of that potential than Bull, for some reason.

Seems to me he's the one with a lot longer of a journey to go. What with the way he talks about the Qun. But perhaps…there's something I have that makes me more prone to weakness? Or does it mean that no matter his own weakness, he doesn't grow from it?

Any way I look at the problem, I can't figure it.

Well…it's time to travel to the Hinterlands and…the Hessarians need their leader to be sharp.

So whatever else I am, I had better be _that_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna let you guys know something-
> 
> On top of the Interactive Novel and the Fanfiction, I'm now planning to write a serial Novel.
> 
> It's going to be a Modern Girl Dropped into Fantasy Universe type book, like the fanfictions I write but...better. I'm not gonna lie, fanfic allows me to ignore small details and personal descriptions for the most part but in an actual book, I'm gonna have to tell people what things look like and do things narratively that I don't do here or in any of my other fics.
> 
> So I've decided on another rewrite of Rewritten, but as you know, that won't mean I'll stop writing the two versions I have up now. The reason behind that is-- rewriting is a natural process to the whole creation thing. I want people to see what I cut out, what I put in, what I changed and what I kept the same and let you all know that writing a book is a hard endeavor but that the first draft always looks like crap.
> 
> It just does. Even my second and third drafts look a little like crap to me compared to how I'm writing the next one. I've actually come up for reasons for Nik to have power in Haven in the beginning-- reasons for everything she does. I've finally filled in bits of her personality that were left empty before.
> 
> I've fixed things that made no sense!
> 
> Just, know that this is a lot of work for me, and I'm doing it all gratis on the fanfiction side. I am gonna do as much or as little writing on my fanfics as I feel like doing because that's always been how I write and it works for me.
> 
> You may not notice a difference in the frequency with which I update, or you might, but it has nothing to do with how many projects I have running. No matter the number, I work on what I have inspiration for. Just to let you know, right up front. (And to forestall any objections from assholes who might tell me to finish what I'm working on instead of fluttering all over the place. Because if I did that, I might stop writing on that story forever because I got blocked. This is how I work, please respect that.)
> 
> When I publish the newest rewrite, it'll be titled Unwritten thanks to Chelbizzaro. (Dunno if I've spelled that right)
> 
> Have a wonderful day!


	187. Nik POV, Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude, between everything else going on.

I've been in this room foreverrrrr…

Maybe just a few hours, or an hour, who knows. It feels like forever to  _me_.

And I'm only just  _now_  seeing this mural?

"I hate my eyeballs," I say snappishly, staring at it. "They pick up everything until I  _really_  need to see something and then-" throwing my hands up in the direction of the mural, I finish with, "-it's hidden in plain sight until I'm so frustrated I want to start crying!"

I think it's a mural of a petitioner or maybe one of the sentinels. The plain garb and androgynous hair in the mural are cool. Solas keeps telling me about how gender wasn't the same as it is in Thedas or- even in my world, and it's nice to see evidence of that.

Walking forward and tracing the images with my fingertips, I wonder if this is something I was supposed to see, or…

What use is a mural to me?

The outfit is something plain but also pretty. I think it's supposed to be pure white or maybe cream colored…with bands of gold. A sort of…halter neckline…billowy quality…it's like a jumpsuit that has several golden bands wrapped around the throat, waist, forearms…but no sleeves. Those are like bracers I think, then? Maybe?

And then that same kind of foot wrap that Solas wears. They form sort of a greave-like thing on the shins…

If he's symbolically dressed like some kind of Ancient Elvhen monk or something, I will lose my shit. Because it is so fucking like him to go full drama queen and garb himself in something like that to remind himself every time he gets dressed-

Jesus, my mate has problems. And calling him that feels really weird, but that's probably because I never saw myself with one before. And because if I'd ever imagined having one, the word I'd have to use would've been husband.

Sure, nothing's official yet, but…it's not like  _I'm_  going anywhere. And he seems pretty adamant about proving that he's here to stay with me, so we'll see how it goes. For now I'm just…I'm just gonna trust that he'll be here until he gives me reason not to.

Mural, focus on the mural.

The outfit in the mural looks cute and sporty, so I wouldn't mind wearing it if I could get my hands on it. I might tweak it so I can wear shoes…or would that be disrespectful?

Abelas has stopped responding to me, so there's no point in asking  _him_  about this. And Veil isn't talking to me, period…

But maybe this is supposed to be a clue? Like, I'm supposed to be wearing this?

Well how the fuck am I supposed to do that if there aren't any clothes in here!?

A few tears escape my eyes as the frustration peaks and I drop into a crumpled heap on the floor.

I've checked the floor, the ceiling, I've knocked on the walls to see if there were hidden compartments- I've looked under and around the bed, unraveled the mattress to look inside it! There's nothing  _in here_.

"I'm not a mage!" I scream into my knees. "I can't just conjure things, so if that's what you're waiting for, just pronounce me a failure and LET ME OUT."

"Mythal's messenger had assured me you were ready and willing to undergo training. If he was wrong-"

I leap to my feet and stalk over to where the voice emanates from, not really caring if I'm standing in front of whatever he's using to watch me or not- a wisp or something? -and yell. "I CANNOT SNAP MY FINGERS AND BECOME A MAGE, IT DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT ANYMORE, GET WITH THE GODDAMN TIMES."

And then I turn on my heel and walk over to the door. "Fuck this, I'm leaving. If you can't even tailor the training to fit someone without magic, you're not a fit teacher any more than I'm a fit student."

There is a long silence that I'd be flattering myself to say comes off as 'stunned', but I pay him no mind as I check out the door anyway. It becomes a featureless slab of concrete as I approach it, but I've already determined that this is all illusory, anyway.

If I can get my brain past the illusion…

So I close my eyes, reach out to the wall and start patting the area down, but I don't find any creases…

…because the door was never here to begin with.

…and he probably put it in the one place I kept passing by and discounting because I thought I could see into it,  _damn it_.

I stalk over to the calcified dresser with my eyes closed- I've walked this path so many goddamn times, I can navigate in my fucking sleep -and when I reach out, I smack wall. Fina-fucking-ly.

Finding the crease in the wall, I carefully feel around until I find the door handle and then I'm  _outta_ there.

Only to find myself in yet another room, only this time-

"The fuck!?" I gasp and paw at my body in shock as I notice new clothes draped over my form. It's the outfit from the mural!

"The first trial has been passed _,_ " Abelas's voice echoes out from another point in this new room. "The second begins."

"Are you  _kidding me_!" I throw my hands up. "What the fuck was that supposed to test me on!? Or train me to do!?"

"In time, that will become apparent _,_ " there's a certain tone in his voice I can't place. Quiet. Kind of…I dunno, disbelieving?

"Ugh!" I groan and tear at my hair. "So what do I do now!?"

"Leave," he replies.

I glance around the windowless, doorless room and sigh. "You've hidden the entrance again?"

"Perhaps _,_ " he says.

And then falls silent.

And now I'm trapped in a room that has nothing in it but me. And when I turn to look, the door is gone to the other room and even when I feel around for it, it's not there.

"How the hell did you do that?" I ask. "This is all supposed to be illusions, but you-" I blink. "How much of that happened in the blink of an eye?"

"...all of it," his voice whispers to me. "You caught us off-guard or the transition would have been seamless _._ "

I think that's supposed to be some kind of compliment, but it's stated like an observation, so…

"Fuck it, I'm lying down for a while," I curl up in a ball on the floor and try to forget how miserable I am.

* * *

 

Solas POV

"Normally the Lady Inquisitor would handle diplomatic relations with anyone outside our alliances but eh…" the messenger reddens. "If you'd like to appoint an ambassador-"

"I will handle it," I may not be as outwardly personable as Nik, but I  _can_  manage to make people like me. Whether I would have to pretend to be someone else or not.

Nik would be horrified at the very notion.

Or would she? So hard to anticipate when she would be impressed versus when she would be worried. Especially as she is not Thedosian and I do not know anything of the culture of her own world. And even knowing her as long and as…intimately as I have, as I do…I still know nothing about the way she sees the world.

I never thought to ask precisely the questions that occur to me now.

"I'll just…eh. Show you to their camp, then?" the messenger uneasily replies.

I nod and follow them as they leave the tent in which I'd been doing most of my work. It will be good to stretch my legs and get away from the endless requests for advice.

Nik was always going on about how she would make her people more self-reliant, and if this is an example of their self reliance as opposed to total obedience for their leader, I shudder to think of the work load as it was when she first undertook it.

Everything seems to need some sort of oversight or opinion. How did she do this? Without breaking, without screaming?

When I disrupted Elvhenan, there were plans, of course. But I delegated leadership of cells to the point that I barely had to do anything personally at all anymore by the time the Veil went up.

Meeting with the…colorful individuals that had asked to see the leader of the Inquisition, was…harrowing.

That is the kindest word I can find for it.

I succeeded in intimidating them, but not befriending them. Nik likely would have instinctively reacted to some cue at just the right moment to charm them all- or perhaps she would have fumbled something and earned endearment from them because they underestimated her.

She takes advantage of her small stature and soft form rather a lot.

I am not an ambassador. Josephine is an ambassador. Nik is…something else altogether.  _I_  am barely an advisor. And not even that, not truly. Anything I have advised, Nik has taken into consideration. But half of my advice is tossed away as soon as other avenues are presented to her.

She has her own mind, her own morals, and all I ask is to be heard. So it does not trouble me that she doesn't listen.

It troubles me that I do not have satisfactory answers. And it occurs to me as I leave our new…tentative perhaps-allies behind…

That in order to learn what those satisfactory answers might be…I would have to be like Nik. I would have to be open to criticism in everything. Devalue my own opinion to the point of disbelieving my own view of the world until I had taken in enough information to reevaluate everything.

Myself, the world… _her_.

" _Cousin!_ " a high pitched voice shrieks at me and I turn in time to catch a small body throwing itself at my person. They are one of the Dalish children speaking in…their particular…dialect.

( _Yes, Solas, their dialect. Countries and cultures that don't have an oppressive government beating other languages out of people tend to have those._ )

She always finds a way to phrase things that make me feel terrible without knowing why.

" _Do the music,_ " they chirp at me from the ground, their little fingers twisted in my robes.

Since Nik has been gone and Josephine and the others are not here to take up the slack…it has simply been myself, Zevran, Fury and Cole who have been left to entertain them.

Cole still feels guilty for the attack on the camp and Dorian's kidnapping, and he is subdued and withdrawn over it. I don't know how to help him. How do you pull Compassion out of its own despair? I tried…and I was rebuffed with silence.

Fury has no interest in children, unless they are angry. Too bubbly and easily changeable, they can be pacified too easily for his liking.

Zevran himself is a bit too exhausted attempting to keep up with all the children to truly entertain them.

And so it falls to me to find new ways to do so. Which is how 'the music' began.

"Have you all finished your daily tasks?" I ask. As there is now a crowd of children surrounding me. Most of them too intimidated by my height and severe expressions to come closer.

Nik had assigned them busywork that would give them useful skills before, and Zevran had them doing schoolwork in Wycome…so I gave them jobs crushing herbs with the mages in the keep, organizing the storehouses and taking stock of everything within them.

Learning their numbers, organizational skills…it was all I could think of. I am not quite as creative in that specific way as she is, or even as Zevran is, apparently.

There are nods and muttered affirmations and I sigh, put-upon and weary. "Alright, but I will anchor it here and you must stay here to listen to it. I have things to do, you will have to make do with only the one."

The children settle on the ground or lean against a nearby wall, waiting for me to summon the wisp. As I do so, I give my wrist a flourish, creating a bit more light and color than need be, as I usually do.

Children find magic in the smallest of things. I have…always loved that about them. Even these children, when I believed them to be echoes and shadows…I…

Shaking away that thought, I call upon the memory of her voice. Singing loudly in the Fade. It is the only song I can clearly remember her singing anymore, though I know there were others. I played them for the children only days ago.

But this one…resonates.

I can tell they agree by the way they are immediately enraptured and absorbed.

And I slip away. A shadowed spectator for a precious few stolen moments before I leave them completely.

The feeling I have toward modern Thedosians have yet to solidify into anything I could name. But  _she_  loves them. Deeply and dearly.

So I will try to see the reason. I will try…to be better.

Not  _for_  her, anymore, I think. Simply because of her. She is not here, after all. She would not benefit from this rumination.

But I? I may finally know the answer to the questions I cannot put words to, if I can only…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Sketch, I put your outfit in like I promised, see!
> 
> https://sketchabloo.tumblr.com/post/161552612249/a-little-drawing-i-made-for-rikadivani-this-is
> 
> For those of you who want to see what Nik looks like in her new outfit.
> 
> Be sure to reblog the pic and let Sketchabloo know how much you like it!


	188. Chapter 188

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I dunno how else to make an announcement on this damn site so I'll update with a fake chapter and then delete it in a few days.

Unwritten is ready for perusal whenever you guys feel up to it.

 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15436644/chapters/35831331

 

I've been lagging so much in motivation lately but I've finally got enough of a backlog I can start posting. I think I'll try to keep consistent this time and update once a week on the weekends.

 

I'm still writing the other two versions-- I've gotta, after all that's where I get all my ideas out and play around with them.

 

But I'm really hoping this new version is better. A lot of things got left out of the previous versions because I felt it was too much or it might make everything seem weird or whatever-- but fuck it. This is my story and it's gonna be as great as I can make it.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave feedback, I'd love to hear from you! If you just want to hit the kudos button or comment just to say 'kudos' that's fine too.
> 
> RikaDivani.tumblr.com if you want to check out my other stuff.
> 
> I MADE PLAYLISTS: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC0eYJ4nFL1M4nKY_leVRjfQ/playlists


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